"So I can only enter right now if I found a feeder who is roughly 250 lbs. or more?"
"That's right. I'm not the one who makes the rules though. My bosses created this club so plus size people can be themselves without the fear of fat shaming. I'm sorry but those are the rules."
Eric sighs in utter disappointment, and retreats to a street bench nearby. At least he'll be able to see the fat women come and go from the club - won't he.
After a few minutes, and only one sighting of a moderately plump girl with a truly fat male companion - boyfriend? husband? and which one was the feeder? - Eric is about to give up when the security guard crooks a finger at him.
"I can see you're really serious about this - probably like me. Hey, I took this job just to get closer to the club and all the feedees and feeders, and it worked! Look, I know a few of the feeders inside - I've asked one of the to come out and take you in. She used to be one of my feeders, she likes hungry guys..."
"She used to be one of your feeders? You're a feedee?" Eric asked.
"Sure, how did you think I got to this size? But I also like feeding, and she preferred smaller guys, so we both moved on. You've got that 'chunky guy in uniform' thing going, I told her, so she's coming out to see you."
"Gee, thanks, man!" Eric says to the guard. They high-five, and a moment later a lady comes out looking for Eric. She's...
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