The Adventures of Phatgurl
by Emily Suzanne
Smiltneck
The
Adventures Of Phatgurl
is a serial collection of stories about the adventures of Jany, a
plus-sized young woman who, in desperation, places an ad on a
personals website. As she embarks on her dates, she meets many
different kinds of men who expect many different things from her.
Some of her adventures are wildly amusing and others are more
serious and even sad.
If you have any
ideas or experiences, funny or otherwise, that you would like to see
depicted in a future Phatgurl story, please e-mail me at
emilysuzanne20@hotmail.com.
I will do my very best to incorporate all reader ideas into future
columns. Thanks!
The Ad
(Part 2)
SWSSBBW seeks SM
who will not rape her, emotionally or otherwise. The ability to
both speak and write in complete sentences is a plus. Must not
inadvertently throw her down stairs or pretend that she is “Mama.”
Intelligent conversation, a little respect, and the lack of a
current significant other will get you far. And a well-developed
sense of humor won’t hurt, either. If you like smart chicks with
jelly bellies and thunder thighs, reply to
phatgurl@personalz.com
Candidate 2.8: The Woman
To:
phatgurl@personalz.com
From:
selenad@personalz.com
Subject: I’m Not Sure How You’ll Take This…
My name is Selena.
I’m a bisexual BBW (I wanted to get that part out of the way
right away) and I came across your ad.
Cute! I wish I’d
thought of something witty like that.
I know you didn’t say anything about being into girls,
but…well, sometimes people don’t say that in their profiles if
they’re not really sure about it yet, and you never know unless you
ask. So I’m asking.
I work at the library downtown.
In periodicals.
I’m into reading and fashion and music and movies and celebrity
gossip, just to give you an idea of what I do with my spare time.
And I’d like to meet you sometime if you want.
Don’t let me creep you out, though.
Feel free to just let me know if you’re not interested.
I understand if girls aren’t your thing.
Okay, let’s leave it at that and see what
happens. -Selena.
To:
selenad@personalz.com
From:
phatgurl@personalz.com
Subject: Re: I’m Not Sure How You’ll Take This…
I’m not interested.
I don’t think.
I have to tell you that I was actually logging
on to delete my account when I saw your e-mail.
It kinda stopped me in my tracks because it was so
unexpected. I almost
just deleted it along with my profile, because the last guy that I
met was a freak and sort of stalked me.
Actually, the police got involved, but not because he stalked
me. Long story.
Anyway, I saw your name and you were obviously not a guy, and
something made me read your e-mail and now I haven’t deleted my
account. Yet.
I’m not bisexual.
Or a lesbian. I
don’t think. I mean, I
don’t think I’m bisexual.
I know I’m not a lesbian, because even though most men hate
me, I still like men.
lol My boss is bi, and
I’ve never had a problem with it or anything.
It’s never seemed weird to me.
I’ve never been attracted to a woman, though.
Not really. But
the thought doesn’t gross me out or anything, so maybe that means I
really am bisexual. I
don’t know. Wow, you
have me in a tailspin. I
mean, what if everything’s always gone wrong with men just because I
was meant to be with a woman?
No, that’s silly.
I mean, I’ve had some good experiences with guys.
But I hate to say never.
Some of the guys I’ve gone out with?
I never should have gone out with them, but I did anyway,
just for the experience.
So maybe I should go out with you just for the experience too.
I mean, if nothing else, at least you’re not a bicycle
thief/stalker. Are you?
I’m still not sure, but I’m not saying no.
Oh, and I work in an art gallery and am into music and
reading, too. So we do
have some things in common.
-Jany
To:
phatgurl@personalz.com
From:
selenad@personalz.com
Subject: Re: Re: I’m Not Sure How You’ll Take
This…
I know how you feel.
As far as not being sure if you’re bi or whatever, I mean.
I felt the same way the first time I got together with a
girl. For me, it was
back in high school, though.
A friend of my cousin’s had the hots for me, and I was into
being “alternative” so I went out with her.
I’m not a bicycle thief and I’ve never been
called a stalker yet.
Feel better? Why don’t
we get together some time.
We won’t call it a date.
We’ll just get together and see how things go.
To:
selenad@personalz.com
From:
phatgurl@personalz.com
Subject: Re: Re: Re: I’m Not Sure How You’ll
Take This…
OK.
Let’s just go to the mall or something.
I’m warning you, though, that even if we don’t call it a
date, I am probably going to be super nervous.
Just FYI. I
get weird sometimes.
I’ve gotten a little better about it, but not completely better.
Mala pushed Jany toward the door.
Jany held her knees stiff, did her best to keep from walking.
Finally, when Mala had just about pushed her over, Jany
stepped forward. But
only to regain her balance.
“Jany, just go!
My god! You are going to
the mall to meet a new friend, not stepping into a cage of hungry
lions. This is not a big
deal.”
“But what if she tries to kiss me?
Mala, I can’t do this.
That’s all I’m gonna think about.”
“Really? You’re
this freaked out about a kiss that hasn’t even happened?
Come here a minute.”
Mala pursed her lips in Jany’s direction.
“No!”
“I’ll kiss you if I have to.
Just to prove that a girl-kiss is no big deal.”
Jany sighed and stomped toward the door.
“You don’t get it.”
“Nope. I don’t.
You freak out way too easy.
And you’re acting like you’re three.
You’re meetin’ her in a mall, not a hotel room.
It’s not like she could rape ya even if she wanted to.
You’re the one who says you’re lookin’ for a relationship and
not just sex, but you’re thinkin’ way too much about sex right now
for that to be true.”
“I am not!”
“If you weren’t thinking’ about sex, you’d be going, ‘Bye,
Mala. I’m going to meet
my new friend at the mall.’
Instead, you’re going, ‘Mala, save me!
I’m going to meet a big bad lesbian who might make me kiss
her!’ See the
difference?”
“She’s not a lesbian.
She’s bi.”
“Shut up and just go have fun.”
Mala pushed Jany toward the door again, and this time Jany
let her.
At the mall, Jany paced outside of the main entrance for a
while. A woman who was
not as fat as Jany but still a little chubby swaggered up to the
door, dropped a cigarette on the sidewalk, stepped on it with a
twist, kicked it into the grass, and disappeared into the mall.
Jany somehow knew it was Selena.
She stuck her hands in her pockets, sucked in her stomach the
way she always did when she was meeting someone new, and followed
the woman inside.
Proud of herself for taking the initiative, Jany stepped
toward the other woman and cleared her throat.
Too late. The
woman swung around and started talking before Jany had a chance.
“Hey—do you happen to be Jany?”
“I am.” Jany
sagged backwards, deflated.
“You’re Selena?”
“Yep.”
“You sort of just stole the wind from my sail.
I was scared to death to meet you, just so you know, and I
was feeling all proud because I found the courage to ask you if you
were you, but then you asked me if I was me and I didn’t get to, and
now you don’t have to believe I’m the kind of person that could find
the courage to make a first move and I’m rambling.
I hate when I do that!
“That’s okay. If
I’m listening to you ramble, I’m not rambling.
Wanna go get a drink and sit down?”
Jany couldn’t think of a thing to say once they were seated,
and obviously Selena couldn’t either, because they sat without
talking. Jany looked at
her cup, the neon signs on the walls, the people around them, the
floor, anything but Selena.
Finally, carefully, she raised her head just enough to peer
at Selena over the top of her Coke cup.
Selena was looking at Jany, too.
Their heads pivoted in different directions and Jany
absent-mindedly pressed her cup against her face to cool her burning
cheeks. What if Selena
thought Jany had been checking her out?
Even though the room was full of noise, there seemed to be a
bubble of silence around the table Jany and Selena were occupying.
With every second that passed, the bubble seemed more
stifling. Finally, Jany
decided to test her voice.
No matter what she said, it couldn’t be any more
uncomfortable than the silence.
“So, how—” She
stopped when she realized that Selena had started speaking at the
same time. Said the same
words, even..
“Damnit! I’m
trying so hard here and you’re never gonna give me a chance to talk
first, are you?”
“Sorry. Go
ahead,” Selena said, laughing.
Jany thought, for a second, that she had never heard laughter
as beautiful as Selena’s.
Then she panicked.
Did that make her a lesbian?
Never mind.
Selena was waiting for her to talk.
“I was just going to ask how your day was.”
“Oh, fine. I
spent most of it stocking shelves.
That’s pretty much what I do for the first few days of the
month, ‘cause that’s when we get the new magazines.”
“Ahh. I, uh—well,
to be honest, I have no idea what I did today.
I was so nervous about meeting you that it was all a blur.”
“You were nervous about meeting
me?
Wow. I am so not
worth being nervous about.”
“Funny, I tell people that all the time.
About me, I mean.”
“You’re nervous-worthy, I promise.”
Jany jumped a little at Selena’s compliment—had it been a
compliment?—and then forced herself to pay attention when she
realized Selena was still talking.
“So how has the personals thing been working for you?”
“Okay. I mean,
I’ve met a lot of guys, but most of them aren’t exactly winners.”
“I know what you mean.
I’ve met a few guys and a few girls, but to be honest, I
haven’t met any girls I really like that much, and most of the guys
only liked me ‘cause they knew I liked girls.”
“Yeah, I can see that.
Guys can be weird.
I mean, heck, look at the bicycle thief guy.
Or the guy that wanted to call me mama.
Or the guy that wanted me to move in with him the day after
our first date. Our only
date, actually.”
“I’ve never had any that weird, but the guys have mostly
been, like, ‘Hey, you meet many girls with your ad?’ and I tell them
I’ve met a few, and then they generally ask if I think any of them
would wanna join us in bed.
I’m all like, ‘No, prob’ly not, since I have no intention of
ever being in your bed’.”
They talked for a while longer, then got up and wandered
through the mall.
“You know, the last time I came to this mall to meet someone,
the dude asked me to give him a blow job in there,” Jany told Selena
as they walked past the theater.
“Speaking of weird dates.”
“Oh my god, really?
I totally promise I won’t do that!”
“Well, gee, that makes me feel better.”
They both laughed.
“Did you?” Selena asked.
“Did I what?”
“Did you blow guy?”
“Good god, no! I
mean, getting arrested for performing lewd acts in public didn’t
exactly make my bucket list, and anyway, I am
so not good enough at it
to do it in public!”
“You’re too funny.
I like your sense of humor.
You don’t exactly have a high opinion of yourself, though, do
you?”
“What do you mean?
I think I’m okay.”
“I just noticed that you, like, cut yourself down a lot.
You laugh and stuff, but you still do it.
And you how you were so nervous about meeting me?
You shouldn’t have been that worried about it.
You’re a lot of fun.
And you’re pretty, too.”
Jany couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
“You are. You’re
really pretty.”
“Um, thank you?
I’m sorry. I really just
don’t know what to say.”
“No, I’m serious.
What makes you think you’re not?”
“Look at me. I’m
fat and lumpy and bumpy and—”
“Tell me something.
Be honest. Do you
think I’m ugly?”
“No, of course not.”
“What makes me not ugly?”
“Huh?”
“Go out on a limb.
Tell me what you like about me.
About how I look.
I promise I have a good reason for asking you—it’s not, like, just
to make you compliment me or something.”
“Okay, um—your hair is really pretty, and your eyes.
And your skin looks super smooth.
And—and you look sort of soft.
Like it would feel good to touch you.”
“I’m just as fat and lumpy and bumpy as you are.
So if you believe those things about me, you have to believe
them about you too. If I
catch myself dissing myself, I’m always like, ‘Would I say whatever
I just said about myself about a friend?’
And the answer is almost always no.
I mean, I’d never tell a friend I thought her jeans made her
legs look like fire hydrants, or that she was so ugly no one would
ever want to be with her.
So why shouldn’t I be my own friend and refuse to say things
like that about myself, too?”
“Wow. I mean,
you’re right. I never
really thought about it like that before.
You’re pretty smart.”
“There’s nothing special about me.
I was just lucky enough to hear all that crap from my
counselors back in the day.
I started seeing them when I was like twelve because I just
happened to have a terrible self image and a single mother without
much to focus on but me who wanted to make my father pay for things
like counseling just because he was an asshole.
It’s not like I’m this—evolved, or whatever you want to call
it, all on my own. And I
called it crap, but this stuff is true, really.
I mean, it all makes sense.
At least, that’s what my therapist tells me.”
“I don’t—wow, I really don’t know what to say.
I’m not used to talking to people about stuff like this.
But sometimes people like me need to hear from people like
you. Thanks, I think.”
“Glad to be of service.
Now let’s try this again.
You’re pretty, Jany.”
“See, I still don’t really know how to respond, though.
Thanks. So are
you. Is that better?”
“Getting there.
Hey, do you wanna go for a ride, maybe grab dinner somewhere?”
They had dinner at place that Selena knew, where the food was
really great and the room was dark enough that no one noticed Jany’s
face flush when Selena pulled her chair out for her.
Selena ordered a glass of wine and offered one to Jany as
well, and Jany accepted even though she hated wine, because it
seemed like wine might dull the minor twinges of panic she was
feeling over sharing such an intimate, almost romantic dinner with
Selena.
Jany thought her nerves must be buzzing audibly by the time
Selena delivered her home.
Somehow, though, she found the courage to speak.
“Selena? Would
you take it the wrong way if I asked if you wanted to come upstairs
for a while? Watch TV or
something? It’s still
early and I don’t feel like sitting around by myself all night.
I’m kind of—well, I just really don’t feel like being alone.”
“If, by take it the wrong way, you mean think you’re trying
to seduce me, then no. I
promise. No
expectations. And I’d
love to hang out some more.”
The pair settled on Jany’s couch and found an old Kevin
Costner movie to watch.
When it was over, an infomercial came on and they watched it without
really paying attention.
“Hey, Jany?” Selena finally said.
“I have to get going pretty soon, but—well, I mean—you said
you didn’t have anything against—and you weren’t sure if you were
bi—and so maybe you should just—well, if you want to try, I’d like
to—you have really great lips—”
Jany felt the blood drain from her face, and the room started
spinning as Selena leaned toward her.
When their lips touched, Jany jerked back, instantly and
involuntarily.
“I’m sorry!” The
blood rushed back into Jany’s face and pounded in her ears.
It made it difficult to concentrate on what she was trying to
say. “I wasn’t—rejecting
you or whatever. I was
just surprised. I—god, I
don’t know what to do or say, but I didn’t mean to make you feel bad
or anything.”
Jany turned sideways so that she was sitting upright on the
couch, one knee tucked in front of her, facing Selena.
Selena was looking at the TV and Jany easily recognized the
look on her face—it was an expression of expressionlessness.
The same one Jany wore almost constantly so she wouldn’t feel
vulnerable. She decided
that there was only one way to make it up to Selena, and only one
way to satisfy her curiousity.
Before she could change her mind, Jany leaned forward and
placed her lips on Selena’s for just a second.
Then she sunk back into the couch.
“That was scary,” she said quietly, then waited for Selena’s
reaction. Selena didn’t
offer one. Instead, she
remained focused on the infomercial.
Jany stared at the TV, too, but without really paying
attention. Wine or no
wine, her nerves had no intention of calming down.
“How did you like it?” Selena finally asked, when the
infomercial ended.
“It was kinda stupid.
I mean, I wouldn’t pay eighty bucks for something that
might—”
“The kiss, Jany.
You know what I meant.”
“Oh. Yeah.
It was—well, let’s just say if it was bad, I wouldn’t be this
weirded out.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I’m sorry. I
really didn’t mean to pull away like that the first time.
God, this is weird for me, mostly because it’s not as weird
as I thought it would be.
I—do I have to decide what it all means right now, Selena?”
“Hell, no. Shit
takes time.”
“Yeah. See, the
thing is, I’ve met a lot of guys.
I mean, a lot.
And I’ve never had a second date with any of them.
I’ve just gone out with them and not liked them, but that
might have been my fault because I’m a basket case, or I’ve been
afraid of them, or I’ve just not had the guts to contact them again.
I figured they’d get a hold of me if they liked me, but maybe
they didn’t know if I liked them and that’s why they didn’t.
I’m not very good at letting people know I like them.
But I like you. I
feel more comfortable with you than with any of them even though I’m
scared to death, and I don’t know if it’s because you’re a girl or
because you’re a girl, or
just because I like you, and I just don’t feel like I know anything
right now.”
“Well, I know that I like you, girl or not.
I’d like to see you again.
But maybe what you should do is contact some of those guys
again. The ones you
kinda liked. And we can
see each other more, too.
Instead of making it a mission to just date all kinds of
people until you find a good one, make it your mission to find the
good things in the people you date.
Maybe that’ll help you, like, figure things out or whatever.”
“Maybe. I could
try. It’s really scary
for me contacting people though.
I’m kind of a mess.
You are way smarter than me with all this stuff—what makes
you so smart when I’m such a dunce?”
“I told you: lots
of therapy!”
