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 2.1: The False Intellectual
To:
phatgurl@personalz.com
From:
sxyman_2008@personalz.com
Subject: I
Like You
You’re
intriguing, Baby. I have to wonder what you’ve been through
to post an ad like that. I do like jelly bellies and
thunder thighs, though. And bubble butts. And a nice, full
chest is always good, too. Mm mmm. Give me the lowdown,
Beautiful. What do you keep busy with? -Franklin
To:
sxyman_2008@personalz.com
From:
phatgurl@personalz.com
Subject: Re:
I Like You
You really
don’t want to know what I’ve been through to post an ad like
that—trust me! This whole personals thing has been quite a
trip. Now I’m looking to spend time with someone who’s
easy. Um—easy to get along with, that is. Easy to be
with. I work in an art gallery as salesperson, janitor,
secretary, maintenance staff, pretty much everything.
Basically a personal assistant to the owner. I’m into
reading and writing and art history and art itself.
Eventually, I’d like to teach art classes at the college
level; I take classes when I can. Okay, enough about me.
Tell me about you, now. I’m assuming you think highly of
yourself, given your ID, but I’m willing to forgive you for
it if you seem like a nice guy. -Jany
To:
phatgurl@personalz.com
From:
sxyman_2008@personalz.com
Subject: Re:
Re: I Like You
Well, I’m
glad you’re willing to forgive my arrogance, and I hope
you’re willing to give me a chance to show you that I’m a
gentleman. You sounds like a pretty classy lady who has the
right to be a little arrogant herself. I work in research
and I love my job. Other than that, I’m into politics and
news, mainly. I like to try a little bit of everything,
food-wise, activity-wise, travel-wise, pretty much
everything-wise. I consider myself intelligent and very
well-rounded. Maybe that’s why I like my women
well-rounded, too. How about getting together sometime?
Maybe we could go to a museum or something. Oh, yeah, and
I’m definitely easy. Easy to get along with, that is. -F
To:
sxyman_2008@personalz.com
From:
phatgurl@personalz.com
Subject: Re:
Re: Re: I Like You
Sounds
good. Would Saturday night work for you, either this
week or next? Saturdays are best for me. There’s a new
display at one of the university art museums that I’d
love to see, and I think the opening reception is this
Saturday. I’ll look up the details and let you know
more if you want.
It was kind of fun getting dressed up for a date at an art
museum with a charming, intelligent man. A date Jany had
been courageous enough to suggest, even. She smiled at
herself in the mirror as she slicked on some pink lip
gloss. Since she’d gone to Club Bubbles with Jacob, she’d
developed a sort of new perspective on life. Well, not
totally new, but it had been the most amazing, unbelievable
thing in the world to see that many women who were her
size—and even bigger!—acting as if they had every right to
believe they were beautiful and loveable, even sexy. And to
see men who believed them when they acted that way! There
was a tiny sparkle of hope inside of Jany now, a tiny
sparkle that had given birth to a brand new ad on
personalz.com.
She was hardly even nervous as she got on the train and
headed for the station where she was meeting Franklin.
After all, he had an idea of what she looked like, and he
liked it, and he was intelligent enough to appreciate her
passion for art. Why wouldn’t he like her? Jany giggled
out loud. It was the first time she had ever dared to think
about a man, or anything else, so positively. It was
exhilarating.
She hurried to the Starbucks in the train station, ordered a
grande mocha, and placed herself carefully so that
she could see both entrances to the store. She wasn’t sure
how she’d recognize Franklin, since all she knew about him
was that he was a black man, six feet tall, who was on the
thin side. She’d sent him a photo with her last e-mail,
though, so he should be able to find her. A black man
walked up to the counter to order a drink and Jany’s breath
caught, because he was astonishingly attractive and she
thought it just might be Franklin, but he left as quickly as
he had entered, without even looking at the tables. Another
man approached but didn’t even slow down as he passed. Jany
carefully studied every black man she saw for the next half
hour. Slowly, disappointment set in.
Jany’s experience at Club Bubbles had affected her so deeply
that she felt as if, somehow, the whole world must be a
different place now. The discovery that it was only she who
had changed wasn’t a pleasant one. Jany pulled her phone
from her pocket and fiddled with the buttons, in an attempt
to distract herself for a few minutes.
Just as she looked up from her phone, a smiling man walked
in and looked carefully from table to table. He was
searching for someone. It must be Franklin! Jany shook her
head to dislodge her negative thoughts and prepared herself
to be bright and fun and entertaining when he saw her and
approached. His scan of the room finally ended at the table
Jany was sitting at. A thrill of excitement jolted her.
Then the smile slipped off the man’s face and he turned and
hurried away. Jany felt suddenly sick.
It had been Franklin—it had to have been. And he had
seen her and turned around and left. Obviously, even though
he liked big women, she was just a little too big. She slid
her phone into her pocket, threw away her unfinished drink,
and got up to leave. She ran into the wall on the way out
because her eyes were so clouded with tears that she
couldn’t see. She stopped outside, tears coursing down her
face, purse pinned between her knees, to rub her shoulder
where it had hit the wall. And then she heard a voice
behind her, felt a hand on the back of her neck.
“Jany? You are Jany, right, Baby? How are ya?”
And now it was him—now that she was crying and
disheveled and not at all smooth or sophisticated, it was
Franklin. Jany desperately scrubbed at her eyes with the
back of her hand and turned to face him.
“Yes. It’s me,” she told him.
“You okay, Sexy? Have you been crying? It’s not ‘cause I’m
late, is it? I missed my train and had to wait for the next
one, and I never got your cell number.”
“Oh—no. No, I wasn’t crying. I just—I bumped my shoulder
and it made my eyes water. I’m fine, now.” And she wasn’t
crying, anymore. As soon as he had called her sexy, the
world had turned right again.
“Good to hear. Hug me, Beautiful!”
He immediately pulled Jany close and held her tightly
against him. Every inch of his body was pressed against
every inch of hers. The scratchy tweed of his suit coat was
abrasive on her face, his jeans felt warm against the thin
material of her skirt, and from this close she could see
that there was lint and pet hair clinging to his clothing.
The bottoms of his jeans were frayed. And he smelled like
cigarette smoke. In person, he didn’t seem to quite match
the persona he had presented online. Jany wasn’t sure it
mattered, though. Flattering words, thrilling caresses—Jany
was enjoying herself.
Finally, she broke away and straightened her skirt, proud
that she had the courage to pull away first.
“Ready?” she asked.
“Yes I am, my darling. Follow me.” He abruptly turned and
walked toward the stairs leading up and out of the train
station. Jany hurried to keep up. By the time they had
climbed the stairs, she was huffing and wheezing,
red-faced. She was relieved when he stopped on the corner
to wait for a bus. “You doing okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jany lied.
“You sure are, Baby. Let me touch you again.” He pulled
her close once more, this time covering her lips with his
and slipping his tongue expertly into her mouth. He kissed
her so hard and long that she began to feel weak. Jany
wasn’t positive if the weakness was caused by attraction or
by oxygen deprivation.
A bus pulled up and Franklin grabbed Jany’s arm and dragged
her after him as he hopped up the steps. He paid both of
their fares and pushed Jany into a seat, sliding in after
her and pressing himself up against her. He wrapped an arm
around her shoulders and moved in for another kiss.
Jany pretended she didn’t notice and turned toward the
window. She needed a little time to breathe.
“I don’t get to this part of town very often. How long is
the ride to the university?”
“The university?”
“Yeah. You know, for the reception?”
“Oh. Yes, that. I had forgotten about that. I sort of had
other plans. You don’t mind, do you, Sexy?” He used his
hand to turn Jany’s head and kissed her deeply once again.
This time she didn’t resist. Jany was so dizzy when he
stopped that she couldn’t manage to tell him that yes, she
did mind. “Good,” he said, taking her silence as consent.
“This is our stop.” He stood up and dashed off the bus,
Jany trailing after him.
They were in a dark residential neighborhood. Not the best
neighborhood Jany had ever seen, but it wasn’t the worst,
either. and with all the houses around, she figured someone
would hear her if she screamed for help. She followed as
quickly as she could, but within a couple of blocks, she was
so out of breath that she felt like she might just keel over
right there on the sidewalk.
“Hold on, Franklin!” she called as she stumbled to a stop
and pulled her phone out of her purse. Then she paused.
The old Jany, the one who had written the old personals ad,
would have pretended to be on the phone so she didn’t have
to admit she couldn’t keep up. The new Jany, though, was
bolder than that.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t keep up with you.” She dropped her
phone back into her bag. “Could you maybe slow down a
little? Us big girls can’t go tearing through the streets
quite as fast as you skinny guys can.” She grinned brightly
to hide her trembling chin as she waited to see if her
declaration would lead to rejection.
“Yeah, Babe, of course I will. It’s all good. You don’t
have to call me Franklin, though. All my friends call me
Frank.”
Great. He was a smoker who wore tattered jeans and had dog
hair on his pseudo-intellectual-looking tweed coat and was
taking her to God-knows-where instead of to the art gallery
he had promised, and now he didn’t even have a sophisticated
name. Jany smiled at her own misguided notions.
“Okay, Frank it is. Where are we going, anyway?”
“I just wanted to take you to meet a friend of mine. She
works in a bar with a real cool atmosphere. I thought we’d
go have some drinks.”
“I see. Okay, then. Let’s go.”
“In just a minute, you sexy woman. First I need to do
this.” He leaned in and kissed her, once again holding her
so intimately that she was almost afraid they’d get arrested
for performing lewd and indecent acts. One of his hands
rested on her rear and the other cupped the side of her
breast.
When he started walked again, he slowed it down just a bit.
Jany managed to keep up, if not easily. Finally, at long
last, he led her into a bar with windows full of neon and
tables full of gaudily-dressed people.
“Jeanine! Hey, Neenee!” he called to a short, stocky
bartender dressed in black leather pants and a matching
halter top. Her hair was short and spiky and dyed a shade
of blue so bright it almost made Jany’s eyes water.
“Hey, Frank! What up, bro?”
“Just wanted ya to give a shout to my new girl.”
The bartender looked at Jany in a slow and deliberate way.
Finally, the woman gave her verdict.
“Got yerself a hot one, here, Frank.” She turned to Jany.
“I’m Jeanine. Friends call me Neenee. You can call me
anything ya want to.” She winked and left to help another
customer.
“What ya drinkin’, Sweetie?” Frank asked Jany, grinning.
“She liked ya. Whatever ya order’ll be on the house.” Jany
was somehow confused by his words, but she didn’t have much
time to consider them before the bartender was standing
before them once more.
Frank asked for a couple of whiskey sours. Jany ordered a
diet cola. If she was going to be traipsing around the city
all night with a drunk man, she wanted to be able to think
clearly.
“You’re not drinking, Baby? Come on. Have somethin’ real.”
“No, thanks. I’m really not much of a drinker. I’m good
with the pop.”
Jany studied the other patrons surrounding them. She found
it funny that there were plenty of people in the place but
hardly any other couples. Then slowly, it dawned on her
that they were couples. They were just same sex
couples. It didn’t bother her or anything—she’d been in gay
bars before, with Mala, who refused to declare her sexuality
one way or the other—but it seemed odd for a straight guy to
bring a woman to a gay bar on their first date. And when
they finally left the bar and were on the sidewalk again,
Jany noticed that not only had they been in a gay bar, they
were in a gay district as well. Every single storefront had
rainbow-colored neon signs where they would normally be pink
or green or blue, and the street lights had triangles of
rainbow-striped plastic etched into their wooden poles. For
the first time in her life, Jany felt conspicuous not
because she was fat but because she was straight.
Especially when Frank insisted on holding hands.
Frank stopped suddenly, pushed Jany up against a building,
and wrapped himself around her.
“You are soooo sexy,” he whispered in her ear. “I can
hardly keep my hands off of your beautiful booty.” To
illustrate his point, he ran his hands up and down her body,
touching her in places that had never before been touched in
public. Self-consciously, Jany giggled and closed her
eyes. This was something new, and even as embarrassment
flooded her being, there was a sense of exhilaration that
accompanied it. As much as she knew she should want him to
stop, she suddenly didn’t. It was fun to be with someone
who was so openly attracted to her. By the time they
continued down the sidewalk, Jany’s knees were rubbery and
her heart was pounding. She didn’t even look to see where
they were going when Frank led her through the door of a
business.
She sure did look once they were inside, though. The wall
to their left was covered in movies, and they weren’t
exactly PG-13. Jany had never in her life seen as many
naked bodies as she saw when she looked at that wall. First
a gay bar, now a porn shop. Jany’s blood boiled at the same
time that her bones chilled, creating a curiously steamy,
shivery sensation that seemed to fill her being. As they
walked slowly through the aisles, Jany saw things she had
never seen before, things that made her flinch and blush and
even grimace.
“Do you like that? How about that?” Frank kept asking. All
Jany could do was shrug her shoulders mutely. She was
certain that if she opened her mouth, she would erupt into a
childlike fit of giggles. There was no experience she’d had
or book she’d read or movie she’d seen that helped her know
precisely how she should react to this situation. She was
frightened and flabbergasted and excited all at once. The
excitement came from stepping so far outside of herself. It
was just what she needed to kick off the new Jany, celebrate
the new ad seeking a new kind of man, jump start the new
life that she wanted for herself. No more meek, mild,
apprehensive Jany.
“Was that fun?” Frank asked as they exited at last.
“You know, it really was, in a way,” Jany told him bravely.
“I’ve never been in anyplace like that before. I was ready
to bolt when we went in, but I’m glad I stuck it out.”
“Wanna go back and I’ll buy ya a little present?”
“Uh, no. No, that’s okay. I’m not quite ready for that
yet. Thanks, though.” Jany smiled, proud of her developing
sense of confidence.
“Alright, Baby. Anything you want. Hey, I know you didn’t
back at the bar, but do you ever drink?”
“Yeah, sometimes. Not a lot. But I just went into a porn
shop on a first date—I could probably use a drink tonight.”
“What do you drink?”
“I dunno. Mostly fruity stuff. Margaritas, daiquiris,
mojitos—you know.”
“Well, come on in here, then. I’ll buy you anything you
want.”
“In here” was a liquor store. Jany looked around
hesitantly. She wasn’t sure what Frank had in mind.
Finally, her eyes fell upon s display of wine coolers.
They’d taste good enough that she could choke one down and
had little enough alcohol that she wouldn’t lose control.
“Here. Let’s get these.”
“Really? That’s all you want? I’ll buy anything, you
know.”
“I know. I like these, though.”
Outside again, Jany noticed that the neighborhood seemed to
have morphed from a gay district to a homeless district. As
in, there were plenty of homes around, but they looked
abandoned, and there were plenty of people on the sidewalks,
but they didn’t look like they had been inside of a home in
years. They wore baggy, nondescript clothes that were so
dirty they were all the same color, and their skin and hair
was all one uniform, greasy color. They stopped outside of
a tall brick building. One of the dirty people, a man, Jany
thought, was leaning against the doorway, holding out an
open, crumpled paper lunch bag.
“Money,” he called out in a whiny, weak voice. “I need
money. They’re kickin’ me out. Gimme money. Please,
please, oh God, please gimme money.”
Jany shivered and looked away. The neighborhoods that she
frequented had begging homeless people, too, of course, but
they seemed somehow cleaner and less heart-wrenchingly
desperate.
“Wanna go in here?” Frank asked, nodding in the direction of
the brick building.
What was the place? A homeless shelter? A rundown
apartment complex? A civic center of some sort?
“Uh—I don’t know. What exactly is this place?”
“It’s a hotel. I know it’s not a nice one, but I can’t take
you to my place this time, and I don’t want to have to go
all the way back to yours. I can’t wait any longer. I have
to have you. Come on, Baby. Please.” He looked at her
pleadingly.
The old, shy Jany was back, for one brief second. Every
cell in her body was screaming no.
And then, as Frank placed a hand on the small of her back,
it felt as if Jany stepped out of one self and into
another. This was her life, not anyone else’s, and she
could make her own decisions. To hell with doing the right
thing, the responsible thing. Cautiously, she squared her
shoulders and nodded.
“Yeah. Let’s go in.”
“How much for a couple hours?” Frank asked
the man in the hotel office, a small room barricaded behind
iron bars and Plexiglas. His words gave Jany an odd
thrill. A good girl like Jany didn’t do these things, but
she was suddenly and undeniably turned on at the thought.
It was the closest she would ever come to being a cheap
prostitute, and life was all about new experiences, right?
The elevator would not come, so they climbed staircase after
staircase through dark, narrow hallways that smelled of
urine. From the hand-written signs on the wall, Jany
gathered that you could rent a room for anywhere from an
hour to a month, and she got the feeling that most of the
other women she saw, and a good portion of the men, probably
really were cheap prostitutes. It was fear that thrilled
her, and fear that made her feel safe, because she was
confident that as long as she remained en guard she
could escape from any threat she came upon.
Finally, they got to a room on the fifth floor. It was dark
except for a lamp in one corner. None of the light switches
worked. The TV would not go on. There was a used miniature
bar of soap on the ledge of the bathroom sink, its crumpled
up wrapper on the floor. The shower curtain was torn and
dirty and the bathtub stained. The room reeked of
cigarettes and booze. And worst of all, the bed was not
even made. The room seemed alive with nasty things like
herpes and AIDS. Jany reminded herself to be careful, but
gave herself permission to enjoy the uniqueness of this
night. They had barely been in the room a minute before
they were both sitting naked on the bed, Jany nursing a wine
cooler and Frank taking long pulls from his whiskey bottle.
And then Frank’s hands were savagely exploring her body.
The old Jany would have let him do as he wished, making no
demands or overtures of her own. The new Jany tensed for
just a second and then reached out toward Frank, exploring
him as he was exploring her. It was she who asked him in a
whisper if he had a condom, and she who offered her body to
him.
At three in the morning, Jany was on the train home, dirty
and exhausted and completely sated from the most satisfying
encounter she’d ever had with a man. She knew for sure she
wouldn’t be seeing Frank again—he and his fast moves and
porn shops and raunchy hotels were just not her thing.. But
she smiled sleepily as the train pulled into the station.
She might not yet be who she wanted to be, but she was also
definitely not who she had been. The new and improved Jany
had arrived.
