The tale of the picky little pig and the man who wasn't real. Good evening lords and ladies. I've finally been gifted with the opportunity to contribute to our slim sanctuary with a tale of romance so sweet fatties try to put it in their starbucks. Be warned, this is half a rant/vent so it might dwell. I like to think I'm a fairly open minded person, which is why when a friend and gym buddy of mine came to me with a modest proposal I was willing to hear her out, unknowingly miring myself in a buttery little trap. The proposal was that my shitlady amiga had an old college friend coming into town and she had set her up on a blind date with a local friend of hers to show her the town and potentially find alternate sources of entertainment. The local friend in question though had suddenly gotten cold feet (probably a warning sign I should have heeded, maybe it wasn't fully blind) and she needed a replacement who was single and reasonably easy on the eyes and she turned to me. She tells me her friend is pretty enough and used to play volleyball and college chick bullshit with her all the time so I'm not walking into shrek's swamp to pick up some bridge troll. I'm game for that, I'm single and had no better plans for the long weekend than working out, learning spanish and russian swear words against my will in dota, and keeping my dog from eating every piece of garbage on the planet that smells remotely of food (which you'd think would give me experience with fatties since they're also dumpsters driven by an animalistic compulsion to shove shit in their mouth without the human ability to think about the future). To give you a humble brag description of myself, I'm fairly fit. Mid 20s, I work out twice a day 7 days a week. I'm a rock climber, a runner, a swimmer, a yogi (the bear), and an avid enthusiast of picking things up and putting them down. I'm also a Chemist, though going in I was unaware that human history repeats itself and while slaves in the past built immensely large monuments to the gods and kings. Modern slaves build immensely small monuments to curing fatasses of their various self inflicted ailments. Also if 4chan ruled the world, god forbid I would be firmly in consider suicide division of manlet town at an awe inspiring 5'8(and a half, but I look petty counting halves). Well, I picked her up from Judas' house the next day to take her out and show her what our town has to offer two young fools. Red flag #1 took no time arriving as I neared. Unfortunately, I'm not half as smart as I had imagined myself because despite getting a text reading "Good luck :/" from my betrayer, I didn't have the brains, balls, or both to hook a u-turn with no regard for the safety of my fellow drivers and return to my temple. A text message akin to what I imagine the people got before walking into fukushima with no suit on should have been enough to save me, but it didn't. Well she walks out of my friends flat and my night just went from potential fun in the sun to suddenly a trial in herding a greased up pig around town hoping to the god emperor above that none of my friends saw me and start thinking I am into beastiality or scooping fat fold smegma out of its sweaty crevices or whatever pigfuckers do when they don't have a broom-handle on hand. She is wearing a shirt that looks like it was vacuum sealed on her body back when she was allegedly still human, and now made her gunt look like one of those putt putt holes where the hole is a volcano to make it fucking impossible, but her bellybutton is the craterous depth where your ball would disappear into the abyss. I'm not going to exaggerate and say she was 300 pounds or anything, but my best guess is she was about 5'4, ~185ish. Something like this would be profile pic worthy for this girl. While in the good ol' south she might still be considered non-obese by some sweaty pastor taking his flock out to golden corral, I'm a shitlord and I'd prefer a girl who works until her sweat sweats like myself. Ideally if my girl threw a dime at my ass she'd hear a ping noise so I expect a squat or two from my knightess in shining armor. Needless to say if you threw a dime at this cow's permanent guhnetic seat cushion surface tension from the sweat beading up on her dimply lard dumpster ass would probably suck it in. I try to see the bright side of life, while I have thoroughly dashed the idea of getting anything but a good story out of tonight maybe this fat fuck is at least funny or something. Well, my loyal membership to FPH was basically instantly validated as when the blob monster entered my car I was immediately reminded why stereotypes exist. She smelled like a 2 day old mcdonalds wrapper spritzed 5 too many times with perfume I can only imagine was wrestled out of the arms of a desperate hooker somewhere in Mexico. As it huffed itself down into my poor passenger seat, the first words it managed to oink out at me weren't "Hi my name is, Hamrieta" like some civilized adult human might do, but rather "Ughhh, techno...". Someone with more sense than me would have probably briskly walked away knowing there was no chance this gender bend augustus gloop cosplayer would ever catch me for another word, but as we already know I have no god damn sense. I don't recall what I actually responded with, and I'm not going to be one of those #thathappened people who can somehow remember hours of back and forth dialog, but I let her play shotgunner DJ and had the joy of listening to pop music because apparently we can't listen to EDM without being those german people from supertroopers. In another humorous twist of fate, that rejection fantasy megham trainor song came on and lo and behold hamrieta knew the damn words. I had a few things planned, depending on how it went originally because I've found dates go a lot better if you have a dynamic plan rather than presenting your date with a program at the door with the full schedule. Needless to say, none of the fun stuff on my agenda ever got considered and I'm a fool for even taking this bitch to a restaurant. To keep matters short, as I had to endure this eatbeast talking and drinking at me for what felt like an eternity I will spare you all the details about her ex, why her new roomate is a proper cunt, and why she dropped out of college 'cuz it was "fucking stupid", and how she can't find a job and is too good for hourly. Everyone knows nothing wins over a potential suitor quite like complaining about your ex while admitting you're an unemployed dropout. The one piece of conversation I brought up about myself was my rock climbing, as I still had some climbing gear in my back seat. I have rarely had the pleasure of indulging in such a bizarro world verbal exchange as I did at this moment. Hamrieta asked me where I climb at, which is a fair question because I live in an area that is so flat if you dropped a marble the only thing stopping it from entering a new zipcode is friction. I informed her of a really amazing local climbing gym for bouldering problems, when hamrieta interjected to inform me that a climbing gym is bullshit and not real climbing. That rock climbing was either on rock or was fake. I'm not entirely sure where this animal got such strong opinions on climbing considering she probably couldn't send a ladder, but became visibly upset with me for not knuckling under that my hobby is dumb and that the idea that a sport can be fun for the aspect of conquering challenges and pushing yourself was also "bullshit". Her bill was artificially inflated with genetics tax. We had two checks. I drop this butter beast back at my friends place, there was no happy ending. Now I know where ED comes from, this girl has a restraining order against libido. My friend texts me an apology. I go home to shower off the smell of sweat and kraft singles that I now feel has penetrated my skin. The next day dawns and I have put this behind me everyone has had a shitty date, while it's a shame I don't get community service for assisting the differently abled I try my best. Then the kicker arrives. My friend informs me that her and hamrieta had gotten into a fight that night over the events of the evening. hamrieta had apparently become angry with my friend for "setting her up with a short fuck" and that she wanted a "real man, not a midget". Keep in mind I'm at least 4 inches taller than hamrieta if you forgot the numbers from earlier in this book. They had apparently gotten into a bit of a verbal disagreement about what constitutes a real man, and if I fit the description, but either way hamrieta was displeased that she was set up with someone so far beneath her standards. She has since returned home, where I'm sure she has 6'3 Nordic lumberjack D lined up for miles waiting for their turn. edit: i'd like to add that I don't hold anything against people who find height important, nobody is obligated to find anyone attractive. this is simply a "beggars being serious choosers" story TLDR: Blind date with an annoying fat girl becomes humorous when I'm informed I'm not tall enough for piglet's standards Some five foot eight mind bleach to send you off with my dear reader