An obese woman who has just spent an inordinate amount of time and effort settling into her seat in a café with her favorite indulgence, a savory piece of chocolate cake [exagg. descr. of decadence], suddenly receives a phone call which she has been urgently waiting for but one which she must take in private in order to avoid the café patrons and staff members within earshot from hearing what will surely be an embarrassing conversation [slowly revealed to be dctr. calling w/test results for embarrassing disease which may or may not be root cause of her obesity] since, months earlier, she had spent another less-inordinate-but-still-excessive amount of time and effort into squeezing herself into her small car [impl. that small car is all she can afford on waitress’s salary since she unlike the pretty girls at the diner receives little to no generosity w/r/t tips; include refr. to rare high-tipping ‘chub’ fetishists whom she finds as repulsive as she imagines regular men find her (since they are essentially giving her an extra pocketful of coins in exchange for feeling better about ogling and fantasizing about her as object even as not one of them actually approaches or talks to her – or even acknowledges she is a human being with an infinitely complex mind and personality, both of which remain ever trapped inside her just like every other human being on the planet – except for the occasionally muttered refr. to their wish to penetrate her from behind, the irony of which is not lost on her and "...[her] unpretty head atop an unwieldy body...") which devastates her, for the idea of anyone feeling such a profound amnt. of repulsion is so crushing that she despises these fetishists most for reminding her that it is even possible for a human to feel such hatred and disgust toward another, i.e., her, them, and they, her; toy w/‘crushed’ concept: weight, gravity, collapse, etc.] only to discover after arriving at her destination, the doctor’s office, that she had left her phone on the seat beneath her and that her weight and body heat had damaged the speaker so badly that she could now only take calls via speakerphone because she could not afford to have it repaired or to buy a new one due to aforementioned abysmally low-paying job, which meant she no longer had any means of in-public communication since her fingers were too large to allow her to accurately relay any message via text, and since the only phone conversations she still had were with her doctor when he would call her to let her know of yet another test result she had or had not failed – conversations she never wished to have in public – she was now forced time and again to flee from wherever she found herself at the present moment in order to call the doctor back in private and hear his tender voice reassure her that he would continue to fight to find what was making her ill [impl. that she sincerely appreciates dctr.'s refr. to her obesity as symptom of unknown disease] but so she has spent so much time and effort into seating herself that the very last thing she wants to do is to stand up and leave, an act that will in and of itself require another inordinate amount of time and effort, an amount to be doubled if she wishes to return to this spot to consume her cake after the phone call [cake is single weekly dietary/financial indulgence she allows herself after having recently begun what she has deemed as her last serious attempt at weight loss] which she does wish to do, she really does, especially if the phone call is one of bad news [impl. that she knows she would probably return to celebrate with the cake anyway even if the dctr. had good news but at least then she would feel some amnt., however marginal, of joy] but the idea of even a single café patron remaining at the café long enough to see out of the corner of his or her eye (or, really, attempt to not-see and fail at not-seeing, as was so often the case at work where the corners of her own eyes were constantly met with previously-ogling diner patron eyes quickly darting away, out of embarrassment/shame, not for themselves, but for her, a display of poorly-hidden pity that would cause her eyes to water right there on the diner floor, out of a mixture of rage and regret, forcing her to the back to demand a five-minute break from her boss who would sigh and concede, a break during which she would sob, audibly, and buy bags of Lay's Potato Chips, the only comforting snack-food her workplace's storage-closet-cum-employee-lounge vending machine ever had in stock, the chips never really being food at all but sacks of greasy mashed crumbs from the open bags being stored for immediate access in the front pockets of her slacks, which were ill-fitting because all of her items of apparel were ill-fitting) and so this idea of the imagined café patron potentially seeing/not-seeing – not to mention the actual café staff members who surely would see/not-see though they at least were used to her weekly presence – her grotesquely massive body slave at the task of lifting itself from its place, then waddle out of the café, and eventually re-enter and undergo again the arduous process of seating itself [emph. on her referring to her body as separate entity], is too much to bear (especially since she can only imagine that the amount of repulsion the potential café patrons would feel at witnessing this sequence of events would be enough to dissuade them from ever returning to the café out of fear that they might encounter this hideous monster again, and she could never live with doing something so inconsiderate as taking business away from this café, which she adored not only for its decadent, delicious fudge chocolate cake but also for its staff members' unspoken acceptance of her weekly ritual) but the phone is still ringing and she needs to take this call and discover her fate, and she is so paralyzed by frustration that she does not even bother to turn off its ringer [or else volume button was also damaged in aforementioned phone-crushing episode? potential for toying w/‘inability to put into silent mode’ concept: incessant, consuming, unignorable, etc.] as the phone continues to ring [phone is now drawing attention of café patrons/staff members] and she begins to reflect on the life choices which brought her to this unbearable double-bind [ancdt.'s of unrelenting rejection, e.g., beautiful sister whom parents loved more, middle-/high-school torment, failed attempts at losing virginity, too obvs.? perhaps leave to rdr.'s imagination] and in lieu of making any other decision she begins shoveling the cake she has bought – and to which she has been so looking forward – into her mouth at a maddening pace [exagg. descr. of cake’s deliciousness and its being overwritten by desperation/hopelessness], her goal now being to lodge chunks of the chocolate cake so deeply in her throat that no one in the café would be able to perform a successful Heimlich even if any of them were large enough to wrap their arms around her [reveal here her actual circumference in ft./m.] and so she does start to choke and she falls to the floor, floundering [beached whale analogy too obvs.?], knocking over the table and thereby sending the cell phone flying onto the floor directly beside her [descr. of phone's glass screen cracking; toy w/ ‘broken glass’ concept: mirror, disillusionment, dysmorphia, etc.], and her body spasms wildly which she knows must look to the café patrons and staff members to be a sign of her desire to live when she knows it is anything but, and so the phone ceases to ring as she is struggling to escape the clutches of the one daring and determined café patron who believes he is doing something Good [emph. on her ignoring the phone as mirror of his ignoring her desire to die], and she rolls over away from him/them and is now face-to-face with her cell phone screen, which has lit up with a text message from her doctor; she notes the oddness of receiving a text message from her doctor [“…she didn’t even know her doctor knew how to text; although how could he not, she realized, he was just like anyone else beneath the white coat…”] and that perhaps her doctor knew that the news he had for her was so damn depressing that he had chosen a one-sided, impersonal form of communication to avoid the tears she knew she would impose upon him [exagg. descr. of previous dctr.’s visits during which she has consistently sobbed pathetically in his arms, the first of these sob sessions taking place directly after phone-crushing episode, until the tears no longer came from her condition but from the fact that she was pathetic, and knew it, for essentially forcing this man whose job description entailed nothing of the sort to show her pity and kindness out of courtesy, and worse, that she reveled in it, that of all the things in her life she could not control, e.g., her appearance, her appetite, her self-esteem, she had begun to look forward to her dctr.’s visits because there she had found some sort of outlet for passive control, and, even more appealing, control over something outside of herself, and that she knew this sort of accidentally-coerced intimacy was the closest she would ever come to any sort of real human connection and that this, i.e., her desire to continue seeing and passively controlling this poor dctr., was in fact the reason she had decided to try one last time to lose weight, hoping in some far-off dreamy corner of her mind that she could wean herself of both the food and the dctr. so that she might begin an actual active human connection with him as a regularly-overweight mentally-stable young woman instead of a morbidly obese psychotic one] until she slides her eyes a few inch-fractions/millimeters lower, now actually processing the letters and figures on-screen, and realizes that the text message is not a direct dispatch from her doctor but instead the result of her phone having transcribed the voicemail her doctor had left for her and displaying it as a message on the cracked screen just inches/centimeters away from her face, the transcription being the excited announcement of her positive results: that, yes, she does have the embarrassing disease [disease being both the cause of her obesity as well as completely curable] and here, she succumbs to the asphyxiation, wearing a giant's grin from ear to ear, having discovered that, no, it was not her fault after all.
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