The Fat-Girl Chronicles

#1- Dining Out

“Ma’am…would you like to go for a salad?”

I looked him in the eye to find any hint of sarcasm people unconsciously sport through the funny glint in their eyes, but the waiter had none. He was sort of warm: non-judgmental kind of warm, waiting sincerely to take the order. For the world, it wouldn’t be too difficult to see that I’m one of the largest consumers of food porn. Well! I have been a fat-girl for the most part of my life – not too fat, but loaded enough to get some extra glances from the gloating species that exist everywhere you go. Except for that time when my hefty kilos surrendered to an unanticipated typhoid. But then, my body regained its horsepower soon enough. Even hard times could not turn me into the salad eating types. I am clearly one of those that don’t get lured by the life-changing transformation stories of people shedding 20-30-40 magical kilos off their plus size bodies. Good for them. I wasn’t cut out for a routine of any such kind that did not have ample room for lethargy. Especially the kind that results from some serious binge eating to satisfy a midnight craving for the most sinful dessert on the menu.  If I had to choose between steamy sex and a New York-style raspberry cheesecake, you know what I’d go for. Who needs a size zero to find happiness in life! The shortest way to ecstasy is through a bowl of mouth-watering dessert, the first bite melting slowly in your mouth, your mind and body gripped in an exquisite hypnotic trance.  Whoa! The wait seemed too long… and so, I skip the painful part of running through the elaborate menu of a variety of soups, salads, starters, and a bunch of other things I’d never felt like eating and go for my order head-on.

“I’d like to start with dessert. Get me the White Chocolate Panna Cotta with Berries.”

The look on the waiter’s face was a feast to my famished eye.

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