I used to not date fat chicks. I mean, they're fat, right?
I was still in college, don't remember when, okay, I was living in the frat house so it was my second year. I lived in Billings Hall with the rest of the freshmen my first year, so yeah it was my second year. I remember we were having some kind of party, probably trying to rush a bunch of freshmen, and I needed to go make room for some more beer so I went back to my end of the house for the bathroom.
There were girls hanging around, there always were. Some were girlfriends, some wanted to be girlfriends, and some were friends of girlfriends. Some were, well, you know, just hanging around because they didn't have anything better to do and we provided free beer to girls.
When I came out of my room one of the girls stopped me and asked if we could talk. Sure, what's up? I sorta knew Brandy. She was nice girl with a pretty face and a great stack, but she was a buffalo. I was pretty sure she was smarter than me, at least it sounded that way from the questions she asked in the few classes we had shared, but I'd never paid any personal attention to her. She was almost as big across as she was high. Granted, being fat had given her an incredible chest, but ... fat. I saw her as a fellow human being, but not as a female human being. Because ... fat.
"Sure, Brandy, what's up?"
"Uhhh, can we talk somewhere private?"
I shrugged. "Sure. Here, step into my office." I turned around and opened the door to my room again. Steve had gone back home for the weekend; he did that every other week to see his folks and his girlfriend so if I closed and locked the door no one should bother us.
After she had stepped in the room I closed the door. "Is this good, or do I need to do the deadbolt?" I had my hand on it so she could see it.
"I don't think we need that yet. I just want to talk for now."
That 'yet' and 'for now' sounded ominous. She would want the deadbolt later? This was a frat house. I had a roommate. The only acceptable reason to use the deadbolt was to keep your roommate from barging in on you while you banged some girl. And ... fat, right?
Okay. I waved her at one of the chairs and I took the other one. When we were both seated I leaned forward and asked again, "What's up?"
Brandy looked at me for a few seconds before she said anything. "Bob, have you ever dated anyone?"
"Sure. I dated a lot in high school, even had a couple of girlfriends. I've dated some here but if I'm going to keep my grades up I don't have very much free time and the frat wants most of that. I guess I haven't dated much lately. I certainly don't have a girlfriend right now, if that's what you're asking."
"I've never been on a date."
I sighed. "There could be a lot of reasons for that. Your parents were hermits. You father knows what guys are like and wouldn't let you. You don't like guys yourself."
"I grew up across the state in Athens. It's a city. My father stopped telling me I couldn't date when I turned sixteen. And I like guys fine. They just don't like me. It's because I'm fat, right?"
Shit. I'm a guy, and that automatically means I'm a jerk, but I don't want to be an asshole. The world has enough of them already. Fuck. I'm gonna have to take one for the team, here, aren't I?
I reached out and held Brandy's face in both hands. "Brandy, you're a fine girl." I laughed. "Yes, of course I know that song. It was one of the best of those oldies. Were you named for that, or are your parents hopeless alcoholics?"
Brandy smiled. "My parents met in a bar when he was in the service. I'm pretty sure I was named for the song."
"Good. I was imagining you having twin brothers named Rum and Coke."
That made her laugh, too. "No, I'm an only child. I don't have any brothers I can ask for help with."
"So you're stuck asking complete strangers for help. That sucks." It occured to me, just a little late, that using that idiom with someone looking for a boyfriend may not have been very smooth. Well, I'm still a guy, and college guy == jerk, right?
God, I am so embarrassed. She jumped right on that. "No, I would only suck if I had a boyfriend who liked that. I don't even have that right now."
"Okay, perhaps that wasn't the most diplomatic way of saying 'that's not very pleasant, is it?' Maybe I should have said 'I agree that having a boyfriend would improve your quality of life'. Just pretend I said that instead, okay?"
"Sure, Bob. I agree. Having a boyfriend would definitely improve my quality of life. Do you have any idea where I could find one just laying around for me to pick up and take home?"
"Well, I have to admit that if you aren't too picky, frat houses are pretty good places to pick up guys. If you have standards, though, this may not be the best place to go. What are you looking for in a boyfriend? Handsome? Rich? Good company? Loyal? Hung like a horse? You may have to compromise, pick and choose depending upon what's the most important to you and what's available."
"Bob, are you looking at me? I'm 19, and I've never even had a date. I've lowered my standards all the way to 'anyone who is good to me'. I'm hoping I won't have to go all the way to 'anyone who is willing to look at me'. That would probably be worse than being alone."
"Okay, at least you know what you're looking for. Alright, let's see what's wrong with me. Maybe we'll find out that I'm your ideal man." I doubted it. I had come here to get a degree in Physics and play with quarks and neutrinos for the rest of my life. After I'd been splashed in the face with all that cold math, I'd dialed my career back to Astronomy. I was never going to be a nuclear physicist. Brandy could be, if she wanted. She was pretty smart.
I had let go of her face and I leaned back. "I have to admit I've never won a beauty contest. In fact, I've never even entered one. Nobody ever called me a pretty-boy."
"Ah, but Sir Robert, of all the contestants for my hand, you are by far the fairest."
"Lemme guess. I'm in competition with one of those frogs down by Big Creek, aren't I?"
"Yes, him and several of the rats that live in the walls at Billings Hall."
"Hey, last year I was one of those rats."
"No, you weren't one of the rats. There are men working on their Master's degrees who have lived there for five years or longer. You escaped as soon as they let you."
Well, that was true. They made all freshmen live on-campus, in one of their huge dorms. Unless you were already married. I knew people who had gotten married just to avoid having to live in the dorms. If I'd had a girlfriend coming here, I'd have considered it myself.
"Okay, maybe I'm not a rat. That doesn't mean I'll be good for you."
"You don't say hurtful things about me. You don't call me 'fattie' or 'beached whale'. You're a lot nicer to me than most guys. And you look at my chest just as often as you look at my face."
"Refraining from being mean isn't the same thing as being nice. And all men look at your chest. It's like one of the world's natural wonders."
"Yes, it is the same thing. To a fat chick who has never had a boyfriend, it's the same thing. And you look at my face, too. Most guys just look at one or the other."
"So that's your non-negotiable demand if I'm your boyfriend? I can't call you names? And you chose me because I look at you?"
"Well, there would be more to it..."
We got interrupted by a knock on the door. "Bob? You in there?"
"Go away, Joe! I'm boning my girlfriend!"
"What?" The door opened and Joe looked in. There's a REASON that all these rooms have deadbolts.
I looked at Brandy, still in shock at what I had said. "Your honor, I present exhibit 'A'."
"What? Oh, hi, Brandy!"
"Brandy and I were just talking about some of the jackasses we have here in the house, and right on cue you knocked on the door. Did I invite you in for tea? No. I told you to go away and gave you a good reason. Did you go away? No. You immediately opened the door to see. Your honor, I present exhibit 'A'."
"I'm not a jackass!"
"Joe, Brandy is prettier than you. She's smarter than you. She's a better conversationalist than you. She has bigger tits than you. Those are all objective facts. I have no idea if she sucks cocks better than you, but I'm willing to run the experiment if you want. Joe, unless you are here to prove you suck cock better than she does, GO AWAY. I'm talking to one of my friends and I closed the door for some privacy. What part of 'closed door' is too complicated for you?"
"There was no call for that. I'm not a cocksucker. I'm going to tell Ralph."
"You do that. Close the door behind you." I even got up and pushed his head out so I could close it. I threw the deadbolt, too.
I turned around to find Brandy standing behind me. She threw her hands up, then clasped them in front of her as if in prayer. "My hero! You slew the ogre and saved me! Come take your reward, Sir Robert!" And she hugged me.
I had to laugh. Brandy was a fun girl. If she wasn't so fat I really would be interested in her.
After a minute it was clear that Brandy wasn't going to let go of me anytime soon. I rubbed her back some. She smashed her chest against me more. I pointed out "I'd like this a lot more if you were topless and turned around", and to make the point I fondled her shoulder blades, or at least all the padding on top of her shoulder blades.
She spoke into my chest. "I've never had anyone do that, but it sounds wonderful. Will you promise to not laugh or gag or say anything mean?"
.... There is more of this story ...