… is fat women !
We can just see it now:
The Arab-looking man came furtively into the bar, looking like a man who was looking for trouble. Of course, I knew what the deal was, but I kept my yap shut.
He checked out the dames and went straight for the fat one in the corner booth. She looked like a sofa that had been plumped once too often. Luckily, they were right next to me, so I could hear every word.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “Lonely?” What a question! She would have had “lonely” written on every line of her face, if her face had had any lines.
He was a fast worker. He got her all teary about injustice in Palestine and Iraq. By the second beer, he popped the question.
She said yes so fast he barely had time to get to the question mark.
That put me in a rough spot. I’d seen a corner of his badge poking out of his pocket, and the shape of a government-issue piece bulging out his jacket. I knew that poor dame had just said yes to the FBI. Should I open my mouth? Or should I just leave her to find out the sorry truth for herself?
Thanks to dauntless fat activist and researcher Paul Ernsberger for the link!