Bob could trace his dramatic weight gain back to a bet.
It happened the Thursday after Halloween. He was at a bar with Diego and Finn. ZZ Top hammered out of the old jukebox so loud that the peanut shells on the ground shook. The Redskins game was on. Diego and Finn sat to either side of him each cradling a long necked beer. Bob wasn’t a beer drinker then. He’d come and sit with his guys and nurse a tumbler of rum and coke for close to an hour. When the drink got so low and old that the ice cubes looked like tiny o’s and the last wisps of alcohol were so joined with water as to be tasteless, he’d tilt his head back and clear the glass in one swish.
Diego said, “I’m done with women.”
The hints of a joke played at Finn’s mouth but Bob jumped in before his friend started something that could only end one way. He said, “That thing with Sarah wasn’t about anything, man. She just not into skinny dudes is all.“
Finn was still fighting for that joke. He said, “Yeah, dudes like Bob—skinny in all the wrong places.”
Diego laughed, his shoulders rolling with the effort. Bob laughed too and slapped Finn on the back. He ordered another rum and coke and winked at the bartender as she went away.
“You really think that’s true, man?” Diego said. “About the weight I mean. You think if I bulk up I’d get more chicks.”
The drink came and the bartender waited for Bob to taste it. He took a long sip, watching her as he did. She smiled and he smiled right back, adding a wink for emphasis. She shook her head and walked away.
“You know, it couldn’t hurt. You see it in all those magazines. Girls like the muscles. Hell, it could even make you healthier to slap on a couple of pounds.”
Finn said, “You guys are full of crap. Girls don’t buy into that stuff. They want hot guys and guys who have money. All that muscle stuff is for football players and those, what do you call them, Chickendell guys?”
Bob snorted. “Chippendales, and I don’t think those guys have any trouble with getting chicks—if they want chicks I mean.”
They all had another laugh at that then Finn turned on his stool, dipping his index finger in and out of the mouth of his beer bottle. He said, “Prove it. Hundred bucks says if you to put on, say, 20 pounds, you wouldn’t be able to get a girl to look at you, less go on a date with you.”
Some Thoughts:
- Ten minutes were up, so I couldn’t finish it. I think I’ll continue it tomorrow….