You look in the mirror and like the new shirt - the design is really cool, but it’s really tight. It fits, but barely. It stretches pretty close over your gut, but you’re used to that. You think, ‘It won’t come in bigger sizes. I guess it fits ok.’ You walk out of the changing room and Robbie says, “Whoa, man, that’s too tight. I’ll get a bigger one. You should try on some board shorts, too.”
“Boardshorts don’t come in my size,” you say without thinking, but Robbie’s already gone. Maybe they’ll have some jean shorts - sometimes you can squeeze into those, you think as you go back into the changing room and take off the 2XL t-shirt. When you pop your head out the door, Robbie has reappeared with the same t-shirt in a visibly bigger cut, accompanied by a sales clerk - an enormous salesclerk, a black guy bigger than you are, and dressed in full surfer style.
“Brother Robbie here says you need some larger sizes,” the salesclerk began. “I’m Zach, but my friends call me Sly - I own this place. As you can see,” Sly went on, making a sweeping gesture, “I know what big guys want. Here’s that fire t-shirt in size 4XL - is that about right? And some board shorts in 46, 48, and 50 waists. If you need bigger, just ask - I take a 52 myself. Oh, and try on this vest.”
“Wow,” you reply, and grin. “Thanks. 48 should do.” You take the t-shirt and board shorts and change into them. ‘Wow, this shirt fits great,’ you think. ‘And the board shorts aren’t bad,’ you continue, as you relax your belly after pulling hard to do them up. You step back out into the store.
“Hey, looking phat, man,” Robbie comments. “That t-shirt really suits you, and those shorts are a lot better than jeans for the summer here. Have you got swim trunks,” he went on. “‘cause guys here go swimming a lot.”
“No,” you reply, disliking Robbie’s use of the word ‘phat’ and feeling panicky at the idea of taking your shirt off at a pool. “I don’t.”
“Well, try on these surfer shorts then,” said Robbie. “Gotta do the pool - that’s where all the girls hang out. And guys too, if you prefer.”
“OK,” you reply, nervous at the mere thought of what you’d look like at the pool with your gut hanging out over a pair of surfer shorts.
When you come out a minute later, though, Robbie and Sly both whistle. “Man, all you need is a tan,” laughed Sly, “those doggies suit you fine.”
You pay the extremely reasonable prices for the clothes, and you and Robbie head back out into the mall. Robbie leads you towards
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