Coffee stalker

She has a cup of ice and allows her mother to pour bottled water over it; of course, before she drinks she checks the label for all the evil calories that could be lurking in a bottle of purified water.

It's okay to drink because it's so cold that processing it will burn more calories; these are the diet tricks and tips we all know.

Her mother drinks a regular drink from a regular cardboard cup - I know the taste of the emptiness of that ice water. When she stares over at me there is revulsion. I'm not fat, but I have breasts. I have substance. My hair is thick and shiny. I too drink coffee made with milk and containing sugar.

I'm grateful that she is, at least, drinking water. She even refills her glass by herself- well, sometimes it's better the devil you know. In the weight of the empty bottle I feel her fatigue.

I don't know the words to break through this mindset; I understand the trigger point, the need for control which spirals out of control. These are the martyrs to our excess, the conspicuous protesters.
I don't understand the sicknesses of our society.

And the winners are...

Most weeks we visit a little local bar. There's always a band and we like to oust the drinkers from their hard-earned leaning posts by spinning, kicking and twirling alarmingly close to them. I'm sure our attempts at dancing look a lot more impressive (and potentially dangerous) after a few beers.

If we're really lucky an inept (and drunk) guy will usually attempt something he thinks looks like dancing and then someone accidentally crashes into or kicks him (suspiciously, this someone may be me ninety - one hundred percent of the time, but there's no need to discuss that, as it's pure coincidence, I assure you).

Like any little bar in a little town, it has it's weekly melodramas. There's drunk muso guy, who bailed me up in a corner to tell me about the amazing, fascinating, utterly original and trippy dance beats he was laying down with a group of friends and I should totally collaborate because I was a strong, amazing woman.  Mmhm. Sure. I have a feeling the music's not the only trippy thing going on, nor are the beats the only thing he's attempting to lay. I nearly pulled my own earlobe off trying to get away from that one.

However, for me the main attraction would have to be Odd Transvestite Couple. You're intrigued, right? Of course you are.