Friday, 14 October 2011

Fat Friday

I am so mortified. I don't even want to talk about it - but I promised I would so here goes.  I went on the date with David and it was ok at first when we were bowling. I totally thrashed him by the way (not with a whip or anything pervy - I meant I beat him by so many points it would be cruel to make it public) so to celebrate he told me he was going to take me for a slap-up meal. Anyway, me not being one to turn down a free meal, I agreed but that was when things got seriously weird.

We went to a gorgeous restaurant; very upmarket - but then he can afford it because he's loaded. He's part of the "Cheshire set" which means he basically hangs around with a load of "horsey" people who like to go to garden parties and drink champagne and stuff. Anyway, he did something I've only see people do in movies and I was totally dumbstruck for once. He told the waiter he was going to order for me! I was too shocked to argue. And then it got weirder because he started ordering me loads of stuff. I mean, I know I'm quite a heavy-boned size 14 but come on! I was only going to order myself a salad because I didn't want him to think I was a little flabby because I ate too much (which is probably the reason actually, that and lack of exercise).It was even worse when he only ordered a salad - he said that if he rode horses all day he had to stay as light as possible so he woudn't squash the poor things.

He just stared at me while I ate; it was so embarrassing. He kept saying things like "Oh, I love to see a woman enjoying her food" and "Is that nice, babe?" Uggh, he was such a freak. It got even worse when I couldn't eat my pudding. He picked up my spoon and started trying to put some in my mouth. "Go on, just one mouthful," he said and I felt like I was eight years old again, at my nan's house while she shoved food in my mouth. "You need building up!" she'd scream as I kicked and hit out at her, trying to save myself. Let's just say it brought back a lot of bad memories and wasn't normal.

I can't even get a boyfriend who isn't a weirdo. What's wrong with me? Needless to say I didn't agree to see him again, even though he practically begged me. I told Erin about it and she said he was probably a feeder. I'd never heard of it. The only feeder I'd heard of was the rock band (one of my faves, by the way.). "What's a feeder?" I asked and she said it was a man (or woman but that's a bit rarer) who likes their partners to be so fat that they can't even move. She said in the worst cases that the men just keep feeding and feeding their partner until she almost bursts. I vowed to do some research on it because a) I'd never heard of it and b) maybe I could interview David for my column. Maybe women need to be warned about men like this. Weird really how most women would probably love someone giving them lots of yummy food . The only way I could have a relationship with a feeder is if I could exercise and to burn all the calories off. That way I'd never have to cook again - perfect!

I'm going to have to go now. I've got to pack my case to go to Edinburgh. Can't wait. I'll be updating you with my adventures next week. Until then have a great weekend,

Callie signing off


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