'I'm getting hungry. Want to go to the food court for a burger?' Robbie asks you. 'You can show off your new duds to the ladies.'
You're not sure about showing off your new duds, but the ache in your stomach tells you you're hungry - but you don't have to suggest food, Robbie already has. Robbie seems to suggest things you'd like just a moment before you think of them yourself - being out with him is fun! Plus, he doesn't make jokes about your weight, or call you 'fat guy', like your so-called friends back in Chicago, and Robbie walks (struts, really, but with his body who can blame him) slowly enough that you can keep up without running out of breath.
Both of you wander down the mall, and you notice that, in addition to Sly Dogg's, there's a Big 'n' Tall shop with some nice duds in the windows, and the Levi's shop has a sign to say they carry sizes up to 70 - and the big men's section of Target is right at the front entrance. 'I wonder how many fat guys there are in this town,' you think to yourself. You haven't spotted too many so far, but it was a weekday.
At the food court, you note the usual selection of burgers, fish, chicken, Mexican, Chinese, and Italian, but also a few surprises - something called 'Fat Matt's Rib Shack', and 'Gordo Gord's Tex-Mex' . The sign over Gordo Gord's featured an obese cowboy in a Stetson - the way you might look if you dressed western for a party.
Robbie leads you confidently towards Wendy's, where he orders a triple burger meal deal, supersized, with a large frosty. You're surprised - yes, Robbie's muscular, but too many triple burgers and he'd lose that that trim waistline. You love Wendy's triple - it's one of the few burgers that even begins to fill you up - but you only order it when you're alone. You wonder, but decide to play it safe, and order only the double burger meal deal with a medium frosty. Your meals come, and you notice Robbie looking quizzically at your tray, then at you. 'Oh no,' the fearful part of your brain says, 'here it comes, he's going to joke about me eating so much.'
Robbie clears his throat and asks, 'Are those shorts too tight? 'Cause I notice you're not ordering very much.'
'Nah, they're okay,' you reply. Suddenly, though the shorts do feel tight - you're so accustomed to too-tight pants that you'd asked for the 48s out of habit, but the more generous shirt feels so good...maybe you should have gone up a size in shorts. Or two? Didn't Sly himself say he wore a 52? And he looked good. It would be nice not to have waistband digging in all the time...
While you're thinking, Robbie's hailing some friends across the food court. You look up to see...
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