3 Simple Conditions (for Dating This Ham) Setting: retail clothing store that touts affordable basics and extreme vanity sizing. I blame the fact it's an American company. We hire a lot of fatties. Finding a normal sized human in our store, well, it's slim pickings.  Anyway, I was having a conversation with one of my comparatively small but still rotund coworkers (who quite alarmingly lacks a chin. Usually there's a hint of jaw bone, a little divot, but this unfortunate creature just has a jibbly curtain of flesh attaching its face to its clavicle. Very disarming.) who was regaling me with the tale of an attractive customer she had served while I was on break. She goes on to explain he was 'exactly [her] type'. I ask for elaboration as to her type, because politesse and crap. She laughs, and replies: "Well, I really only have 3 conditions. (yeah, and they're diabetes, high blood pressure and early onset osteoarthritis)  One, he has to be teehee caucasian, two, he has to have a beard and three, he has to drive a truck." me: "That's it?" her: "Well, yeah..." At this point she looks quite embarrassed, and I figure I need to make amends, because being a condescending prick isn't very professional.  me: "Well, at least you get laid a lot!" pageant winner smile  her: (speaking at the floor) "...no, I really don't." I had no idea how to respond. I sure as shit couldn't empathize and didn't give enough fucks to sympathize with the lardo, but at least this is a nice affirmation that even our good ol Canadian backwoods boys refuse to pork porkers.