Food Fetish

I wrote this a year ago for a friend's zine.

Liz trudged through the kitchen door with bags hanging from every extremity. She was careful of the carrier with the dodgy handle that she knew contained a dozen eggs, but the rest she dumped on the floor like the floor owed her money and started unpacking bags.

“I just think that people fetishize sex.” Said Alison, following in behind her and leaning against the worktop.

“Yeah, have you seen those jugs?”

“In the blue bag. It’s given too much importance. Like if people stopped taking it so seriously, they could just enjoy it.”

“Your balls are irregular.”

Alison looked up. “What?”

“The meatballs they have given you are different sizes.” Said, Liz as she opened the fridge door, packet in hand.

“Oh, right. I’ll sort it out later. Anyway, sex is an activity, like any other activity. Some people like it more than others. Practice makes you more confident, it’s fun if it’s with people you like, and it sucks if the company is bad. What are you doing in there?”

Liz peered out from behind the door. “I didn’t think all your meat would fit, but I managed.”

“Thanks. As I was saying, if people stopped seeing sex as this precious, valuable thing, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt people as much if they regret it. I want a world where I can sleep with someone out of politeness and not have to worry that my morals are compromised, or theirs are, or that I’ve hurt someone, just for a role in the hay I didn’t enjoy.”

Liz reached over the table. “Can I get a hold of your baps?” Alison passed them. “Thanks, I’ll put them in the bread bin.”

“And why on earth is there this huge idolisation of virginity. I get why it’s important to each person, but why does the world at large give such a s**t. The first time I went mountaineering was important to me, but I don’t expect anyone else to care. And I certainly don’t expect anyone I go with to be sad if they aren’t the first person I ever went with.”

“This is really wet, it’s running down my fingers.”

“What are you talking about?”

Liz held up a bag. “Something in this one is leaking. Looks like milk.”

“Put it in the sink, we can go through it when all the frozen stuff is packed away. Don’t get me wrong, sex is great and it deserves to be cared about, but I don’t get why society at large has to care about it when it’s so subjective an experience.”

“Your sausage definitely won’t fit”

“It’s OK for some people to be experts and professionals and some people to be hobbyists and some people not to care.”

“Maybe if I could get an extra inch.”

Alison scowled at the back of Liz’s head from where she rummaged in the fridge. “Are you going to take this seriously?”

Liz scowled back “Are you going to help me put the shopping away?”