He asked again and again his voice shook me. It vibrated through me like the sound waves were attacking my nervous system and all I could think about for a minute was the little colorful penis toys that my friend Erin had purchased at the local sex toy store.
What could one date hurt?
“I will,” I said breathlessly.
The words came out before I could stop them. What I really wanted to say was, “why me?” but I thought that might have been unattractive, so instead I just smiled and shook my head yes or no to his questions. I pretty much acted like I belonged on the short bus during our entire conversation.
He asked me how Friday night sounded. After telling him I had to work Friday, we agreed that he would pick me up after work. I heard him say something about dinner and a movie. He was doing something to my senses. I pretty much went deaf, dumb, and blind all at the same time. The man knocked me senseless!
I gave him my number and he wrote his number down on a napkin. I enjoyed the way his thick fingers maneuvered the pen. Then, just as quickly as he came, he was leaving me. I watched him walk out of the café. He slipped my number into his back pocket once he made it to the door. I was sad to see him go, but I enjoyed watching him leave.
I couldn’t wait to tell Shannon and I can’t believe I am saying this, but I had to get my ass to the nearest fat girl friendly store and buy some new clothes for our date, which just so happened to be my first date ever.
After work, I practically broke down Shannon’s bedroom door to tell her the news. I was out of breath and had broken a sweat by the time I made it there. We jumped around like sixteen-year-old girls and then collapsed on her bed while I described how unbelievably hot he was. I explained why I was so confused and didn’t understand why he would want to take me out.
“Lil, you’re crazy! Why wouldn’t he want to take you out? You’re gorgeous!”
“Thanks, but guys like little skinny girls…and hello?” I grabbed at my fat roll and laughed.
“Not all guys like skinny women, babe. Some guys love a thick woman. They like a little junk in the trunk.” She popped her butt out in emphasis. “We call them chubby chasers.”
I laughed so hard I almost pissed myself. Chubby chasers?Thank God I had an awesome sense of humor about all this. Of course, I always have. Whenever I watched a comedian on TV I always laughed at the fat jokes. Why not? They’re funny and since I’m a fat girl I’m allowed to either laugh or be offended. Getting mad would be a waste of my time. If I got offended every time someone said something funny about fat people I’d spend my life pissed off.
Shannon’s a plus size girl, too, technically, except she’s the kind of plus size that barely registers on the fat-o-meter. She’s stuck in between worlds…too skinny to be in the fat girl club, but too fat to be skinny. She was only considered plus size because her jeans had a double digit size. Instead of calling her a big girl we just called her thick. Personally, I laughed in the face of size fourteen!
She has long auburn hair that never seems to be in control and pretty hazel eyes that show her sweetness, which was the only way you’d see it. Her height gave her a slimmer appearance, while her firecracker attitude and the random trickle of freckles across her cheeks matched the red in her hair. I’m sure her sarcastic come backs made high school a breeze for her, but still, her witty smartass nature won me over. I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.
I met her three years ago when she first came into Franklin’s looking for a job and we’ve been inseparable since. She’s a year younger than me and acted like the unruly little sister that I never had. She was my first real friend and even though I’ve never said it, I think she knew it.
We finished our uplifting “power to the fat girls” conversation and started getting everything ready for game night. Every Wednesday night a group of our friends came over and we had a few drinks and played board games.
There were six of us all together. Me and Shannon, of course, and then there was Erin, who was tall and bronze with long black hair. We called her our beautiful Indian friend, but she was made to be a plus size model.
There was Anna, who was the shortie of the group—five-foot-one, round, and adorable with shoulder length dark hair and green cat eyes that I’m sure you could see in the dark. Her soon to be veterinary status was perfect for her sweet and giggly personality. A rabid dog would love on Anna. The response she got from animals was freaky, so we all called her the pet detective.
Meg was the skinny blonde in the group. She wasn’t your average skinny blonde, though. She was different. We liked to call Meg, “a fat girl stuck in a skinny girl’s body.” She may look like the cheerleader you’d love to hate, but she had the personality of the sweet round band geek.