There used to be this old 'Weight Watchers' ad, back in the mid-eighties, that really caught my attention. The jingle went
"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeight Watchers! For people who care for their weight!
Because people who care for their weight are gonna get... watched!"
And there was an energetic set of people speed-walking in parks and playing sport and eating ricotta cheese in celery sticks and other people were watching them and marvelling at their happy smiles. And popping out from behind buildings and bushes and staring at them...
I would have been about five years old and I got entirely the wrong idea. I thought that you signed up for 'Weight Watchers' and then a secret society of people followed you around, tracking your movements and critiquing your eating habits like the FBI of pastries.
I kind of like that idea.
Apart from the fact that people will pay for anything these days - pet therapy, customised daily star signs, Justin Timberlake CDs - I would relish the opportunity to be part of a crack squad of hard-asses that leaps out and bitch slaps people for buying bear claws.
People paying me to smack them goes nicely with my spanking fetish and also would allow me to pretend I was a gritty film noir detective whose significant other has done them wrong. My beloved would have betrayed me with with a custard tart and I would have to exercise my demons - or feed my obsession - by following people and taking pictures of them getting nasty with their illicit lamingtons and cream buns, shining bright lights in their faces and demanding to know where they were on the 13th of the month and how they want to explain the powdered sugar on their sleeve...
Have I thought about this too much?
But it doesn't make me wrong...