The Swimmer, Part 4

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Remember when I said Abby was a cheerful, kindhearted person?

Bullshit.

As it turns out, beneath her warm, bubbly outer layer lays an evil, sadistic mastermind. She managed to convince me to get in my Tempo and leave the sanctity of my apartment without even telling me where we were going. She explained her plan to me on the way there.

"There's a restaurant by my house famous for overblown proportion sizes, which, as you can imagine, I really appreciate," she said, patting her huge belly for emphasis. "It's called The Roundup, and it has this enormous meal called 'The Texan.' It's so big that anyone who eats it gets a certificate for eleven free meals and has their picture put up on the 'Wall of Texans.' And they-"

"Why eleven?" I interrupted. "That seems like such an odd number."

"Because usually people like to use their first free meal on the Texan itself. Otherwise, it's a sixty dollar meal."

I winced. "Oof; that's steep."

"Yeah…Well anyway, anyone who finishes is also given a ten-gallon hat, and the staff does a little line dance around them while Cotton-Eyed-Joe plays over the speaker."

She smiled as she said that last part, and immediately I knew what it was she had planned for me.

I couldn't help but laugh. "You…you're not serious, are you?"

"You're damn right I am!" Abby retorted. "It's the least you could do to prove that you don't mind looking like an idiot. And this is perfect; weren't you telling me I shouldn't worry about the looks people give me when I'm eating? Time to put up or shut up, little missy!"

"But what if I refuse?"

"Then I will forever know that you're full of shit."

I winced, chuckling. "Ooh, harsh. Do you treat all your friends like this?"

"Only the ones who don't put their money where their mouth is."

"So what is this thing anyway? Is it a giant burger? Steak? Chicken? Plate of ribs? All of the above?"

She smirked devilishly, and I could've sworn I saw little horns sprouting out of her head. "What? And ruin the surprise?"



We pulled up to The Roundup soon thereafter. I took notice of the giant neon outline of Texas hanging on the sign above the door, beckoning all hungry cattle to be (see if you get this) "rounded up" into the building.

The restaurant seemed hospitable enough when we walked in, with seemingly every employee sporting a Texas drawl, decked out in full cowboy gear (boots, leather vests, the manager wore a hat to show dominance I guess), and effectively displaying that famous "Southern hospitality" to a tee; hell, even the busboys wore smiles. There must've been something in the food that made them all act this way, or perhaps a little extra giddy-up in everyone's paycheck.

Speaking of the food, I could tell just by walking through the place that Abby wasn't exaggerating about portion sizes. Everyone's plates were filled to the brim of that deep-fried, beige-colored, fatty goodness, even the kids'; six pieces of chicken strips and half-a-plate of steak fries might seem too much for the average kids' menu, but apparently not for The Roundup.

We sat down at a booth and the waiter took our orders (yes, Abby ordered something despite the fact that she must've already been filled with Mexican food and snacks), and the moment the words, "The Texan," begrudgingly rolled out of my mouth, the man's eyes lit up.

"WELL HOOOOOOO-IIEE!!" he yelled, in a manner oddly reminiscent any character from a 60s Western film. "It looks like we got ourselves a Texas Callenge!"

All other waiters and waitresses within earshot looked toward us with interest, along with a good portion of the restaurant-goers, and as my face began to redden (while Abby's smile just grew) it was becoming clear that this night would be full of embarrassing moments.

The waiter took our menus, warning that The Texan would take quite a bit of time to cook up, before leaving me and Abby to ourselves. We continued our friendly banter about our favorite movies, our opinions on the décor, funny college stories, etcetera etcetera…

Suddenly, Abby was struck with a look of absolute revelation. "Ooh!" she exclaimed. "I just remembered…You wanna see something?" she asked as she stood up; she must've already made my mind up for me.

"Uhh…Okay," I followed tentatively. She led me through a small maze of tables to a wall near the front of the restaurant. It wasn't directly in line of sight from the main entrance, which explains why I didn't see it when I came in…but wow.

It's a giant posterboard in the shape of Texas, with pictures of people holding up plates shaped like Texas, wearing Texan ten-gallon hats, and using my deductive reasoning (aided by a large sign above the collage) I stated with some confidence, "This must be that Wall of Texans you were talking about."

"Yep," Abby replied, nodding like a happy chipmunk. "Take a look at it."

"As if there was the slightest chance I wouldn't," I said sarcastically, already staring down The Wall intently. I could tell by the sheer size of the plates these people were holding that this was a meal that doesn't fuck around. Holding it up to their chests, the top of the Lonestar-shaped silverware covered the base of their necks, and the bottom tip reached all the way to their waists. The people in the photos had a similar body structure: most were atheletic-looking college kids who would probably work it all off in the gym the next day, with a few morbidly obese guys sprinkled throughout, and very few women. Let's see…College kid…college kid…surprisingly skinny chick…college kid…Abby…big fat guy…Wait…

"ABBY?!" I blurted out loud, pointing at the picture of her holding up the giant, empty plate. It did seem like the perfect proportions though; the bottom point of the plate did nothing to try to hide her busting hips. Her smiling face was coated in a thin layer of barbeque sauce like a messy child, and looking over at the real Abby, her smile matched the one in the picture, clearly thinking back to the day she ate this monster meal. "You've eaten this thing?!"

"Yep," Abby chuckled. "A few months ago. And let me tell you, even with my appetite, it was one hell of a meal."

I didn't know what to say. "So you know firsthand what's in store for me, eh?"

"Ayup," she replied, turning to head back to the table. "It will not be easy."



It most certainly is not.

The moment the waiter hauled in the massive feast, I realized that the "surprise" Abby mentioned was that no one on Earth could possibly finish the damn thing. The people on that wall must've been aliens, I swear.

They needed two waiters to bring it out and the initial sight of the thing made me jump. As it turned out, my guess of "All of the above," was missing the key words, "And then some."

Ribs, steak, catfish, chicken, a burger, mashed potatoes, steak fries, and in the center, a giant onion flower, with five slices of Texas toast surrounding it to form the well-known Lone Star. Good. God.

"Holy hell," I muttered beneath my breath, much to Abby's (and the waiter's) amusement.

"Now just so you know ma'am, y'all don't have forever to eat it," the waiter warned, picking up Abby's empty plate (whose food had already arrived and been promptly scarfed down). "You only have an hour."

"Oh sure," I scoffed. "Make it harder will you? I don't think this was challenging enough without a time limit."

"Well that's not us'ly the case ma'am, but you see, you caught us just before closing' time." He made a motion toward the clock.

"Of course I did…" I mumbled.

The kind man bid us farewell, and left me to my Everest.

"Goddamn Abby," I mused. "How the hell did you?…"

"Like I said…" She smirked. "It wasn't easy."

I started off slow, grabbing at the burger first. And as far as burgers go, this one was a beast: It must've been at least a half-pound patty, loaded to the brim with lettuce, tomatoes, onion rings, barbeque sauce…It was really quite delicious…but…Holy shit. Am I already feeling full? Just one measly burger does this much damage to my appetite? Given, by any other standards this is not just some measly burger, but still…I have all this other shit to get down too?

Alright, don't panic. That other skinny chick on the wall managed to wolf this down, so can I. What next?…Ribs. Let's try the ribs. Mmm…This barbeque sauce is really good; sweet, tangy, smokey…And the meat is really tender too; falls right off the bone. It's like a commercial full of pleasant adjectives in my mouth. But wow, is it filling. And I'm getting tired of the constant barbeque flavor…Let's try the mashed potatoes…



Uuuuuugghhh…Holy…Motherfu…Piece of…

Almost done but…I can't…My stomach…so full…

"You can stop if you want; you've made your point."

Abby's talking. She's looking at me seriously. The laugher is out of her eyes. She can tell how much pain I'm in, and she actually wants me to stop…

Or does she? I don't know…There seems to be something deep within her eyes. It's almost like…she wants to see me finish…And at this point, so do I.

I don't know how much time I have left, or care, but I think I can hear the waiter hurrying us along.

Ignore him, see what I have left: a few steak fries, one last strip of catfish, and two pieces of Texas toast…Steak fries first. Those should be easy.

With one hand placed gently on my bulging belly, I grab the last handful and pop them in my mouth one by one. Ugh…Each one's like a kick in the gut. I can feel the potatoes slipping down into a stomach that has no room to spare. Almost done…Three…Two…*urp*…One.

Huh. That wasn't too bad…Alright, yes it was. Holy shit.

Okay, just keep it down, and go for the toast next. Why the fuck did they have to add toast? It adds no taste and just pisses me off…Hmph…Alright, just choke it down…

Ow…Ow…OW! Wow, that was scratchy…At least it's over…Only the catfish left…I can't do it.

Abby's grabbing my hand suddenly. Is she talking?

"It's almost time to go," she says, pointing up to the waiter, who's pointing up to the clock, indicating it's apparently closing time. "I think we should leave."

I nod incoherently…I guess that means it's over. Thank God…

…Wait…

If I don't finish, I have to pay $60...Fuck it, I'm eating the catfish.

Down the hatch.

*gulp*

Yay, I did it.

I look up at Abby for a moment and suddenly, she's grabbing my hand and telling me that I did a great. And…I don't feel so full now. The way her wide eyes stare through me, how she somehow almost looks proud of me…my stomach feels much less weighted down…

Alright, now there's a whole bunch of shit going on, and that weighted down feeling in the pit of my gut is back. The manager's giving me his hand to shake, and when I grab it he yanks me up out of my comfy chair (alright, it's not really that comfortable, but still, anything is like a LAZ-Boy when your belly looks and feels like a bowling ball). He's handing me a certificate and giving me my very own cowboy hat; the one right off his head in fact. He offers me the empty plate and I hold it up to my chest much like the people in the pictures did; wow this thing is heavy. I'm vaguely aware that "Cotton-Eyed-Joe" is playing in the background and a whole bunch of weary-looking and much-less-cheery employees are dancing around us, and as I hold my smile for the camera (that our waiter is holding) an idea strikes me just as I'm blinded by the flash.

I corner the manager after all the rigmarole has settled down (and Abby is out of earshot) and whisper to him to do me a bit of a favor regarding the picture. He nods and tells me he'll make sure it gets done.

And so I leave the building with a smile, Abby close in tow beside me, congratulating me on a job well done and assuring me she'll take my word more seriously in the future, and I get the peace of mind knowing that once the film gets developed, my picture will go up on The Wall right next to hers. And it all turned out to be free.

…Wasn't this whole experience supposed to embarrass me? If so, then I'd say mission failed.



We left the restaurant in high spirits, even though I felt like I was going to throw up (I still kind of do). We figured it was getting pretty late, so I should go ahead and bring her to her house.

…Which is coming up just now. I guess it's time to drop Abby off.

"Alright, here we are," I say, putting the car in park.

"Yep," she replies. She seems really…serious all of a sudden. "Listen, Stephanie. I just really wanna thank you for taking me out tonight. This was honestly the most fun I've had in a while."

"It's no problem," I reply. "I just, you know…wanted to thank you for saving me by eating myself to death…"

She chuckled, but not the extent I thought she would. That joke might've seemed spontaneous, but I actually thought of it back at the restaurant, and I was just waiting for an opportunity to use it. To have it so callously disregarded like that kinda disappoints me.

But anyway, back to Abby. "I'm serious though," she said. "I haven't had that many opportunities to be social recently. So…I'm glad you asked me out."

"Yeah, so am I…" Wait. Did I just hear that? "…What?"

"What, what?" she asked. Did she even know what she said? Am I even sure what she said?

"I-I didn't ask you out!" I stuttered.

"You didn't?" She seems honestly confused.

"No!"

"R-really?"

"Y-you thought we were on a date this whole time?"

"Well…Well yeah! I mean, isn't that what you told your roommate?! Even she thought we were on a date!"

"That's because she just says stuff like that! She always likes to tease me about -"

Urp. Stop; don't tell her too much…She doesn't know I'm a lesbian quite…

Wait a second…She thought we were on a date…Does that make her?…

I look in her eyes, and I can see that she looks very embarrassed, but mostly disappointed, to learn that I didn't put the same importance on this that she thought I did (even though, as it turns out, I did). Does that mean…she's a lesbian too? And is she…interested in me?…

Only one way to find out.

I lean forward, eyes closed, and give her a kiss straight on the lips.

And…she's not pulling away.

She's not pulling away! It's…it's happening! We're really kissing! Oh my God!! My head feels so light; shivers going down my spine; my heart beating at a million miles per hour…

Ooh, she's wrapping one of her meaty arms around me…Should…should I do the same? Ah screw it, so far my gambles have worked out in my favor, let's keep the ball rolling.

I throw my arms around her wide self and…Oh my goodness this is heaven. I can feel each and every soft, fatty roll of her enormous back. Her huge belly is pressing against my round, stuffed-to-the-gills one, and I don't even notice the pain. I run my hand across her back softly, lovingly…and I can feel her back tingling. She's loving this.

Let's keep it going. If I can get away with this…My hand traverses all the way down her hilly backside…all the way to her mind-boggling ass…and I grab at it. She jumps, but in that one second, I can feel my fingers sink into the fat, like a foam mattress that I never want to let go of…

But she's pulling away from me now. She's breathing heavily, as am I, and it looks like she wants to tell me something…I hope it's not to tell me to not grab her ass anymore, because I love that.

"So…was it a date?" she asks.

That's a really good question…

"Well it was now," I tell her, and she smiles at me. She grabs me again and pulls me in for another session.

I guess that was a good answer.



Okay, it's been about two months since that wonderful night, and we're stll in that "new couple" stage, but it still feels so strange to me that sometimes before I go to bed, I slap myself in the face to make sure I'm not dreaming. I always end up going to sleep with a red mark on my cheek and a smile on my lips.

I mean, this all started completely by accident after failing to swan dive into a pool to impress a woman I've never met; and somehow (through a completely unrelated chain of events) it ends up working. We end up together…

We still go to the pool pretty regularly, and though I'll never ever touch the high dive again, Abby's given me some lessons on how to dive properly on the smaller boards. After swimming, we always eat more than our fill at the Food Court, and I try to make sure that she ignores all the other pool-goers and gorge her heart out. She's getting better at it, much like I'm getting better at diving.

Did I say "our" fill? Yeah I think I did…Then I might as well admit that her appetite is wearing off on me. I've gained 13 pounds since the start of our relationship (wow, it still feels so cool to use thw word "relationship!"), and I can't stop copying her eating habits. I see how involved she gets into her food and I just…want to try it out too. See what all the hubbub is about. And I'm honestly not sure how I feel about it. I don't like how tight some of my clothes have gotten, but (and I'm not sure why) I like how my belly seems just a little rounder...What can I say, I'm a freak.

Other than that, I don't know what to tell you…Abby and I are really happy together…I'm really enjoying swimming…I learned that it doesn't always hurt to take risks, and that sometimes things happen to work out in your favor…Oh, and I gave Joanne a big wet kiss for the little comment she made on our first date, letting her know how much I appreciated the help. She in turn let me know that she liked dudes, and to keep my "lesbo-ness" to myself. She was a bit intoxicated at the time.

Anyway, I guess that's all I have to say. I'm meeting Abby at the pool soon and I have to be heading out. I finally managed to convince her to wear a bikini and I wanna see how it looks on her.

*wink*