Fat Girls and Crossword Puzzles

Setting: Albany Park, Chicago, a few years ago...

When they all started to giggle and look sideways at me, my daydream faded. I awoke to reality. Once again I was was back in the restaurant, seated at the employee table in the corner, surrounded by fellow barmen and waitresses. I suddenly realized I'd become the center of attention.

"What?"

"Is it true? Scotty said you picked up a fat girl at Grealy's last night. He said you just disappeared for two hours. So?"

"Wow. Didn't expect that to be public knowledge. Um..."

The giggles intensified.

"Fine. Yes I did. So what?"

"Nothing, nothing. I just..."

More laughter. At first, I felt a tingle of shame. Then, indignation.

"You wanna know what happened? Fine. I'll tell you. I went to meet Scotty and Brian at a bar near their flat in Albany Park last night. It's an anonymous little faux Irish joint called Grealy's.

"I sat at the end of the bar, and as the place filled up and began to crowd, this girl named Anna walked in. Yes, she's a big girl. She sat next to me. I was focused on working over the Sun-Times crossword, waiting for my friends. When I got stuck, I began calling out questions to nobody in particular, you know, just out loud to my general vicinity.

"'Nine letter word for historical French fracture, fifth letter is P. Anybody?' The answer came from the stool beside me.

"'Bonaparte.'"

I halted my reminisce to take stock of my audience. The group assembled before me stood, blinking, antsy. I was beginning to lose them. They wanted to hear about me fucking a fat girl. Time to get to the point.

"Right, so anyways, we talked for a few minutes until she blushed and blurted out 'Wanna see my apartment? It's one block away.' I said yes. We left. Fucking happened. So there you go."

They all started talking at once.

"Was it good?"
"Was it gross?"
"Are you mad at Brian and Scotty for telling everyone?"
"That's nasty."
"Nice one, chubby chaser!"

I cut them off.

"Quiet! Jesus! Okay listen. I enjoyed myself a lot, thank you very much, and so did she, I like to think. For the record, I found her very attractive, so no, it wasn't gross, and no, I'm not embarrassed. Ever heard the old proverb 'There's no such thing as an ugly woman?' How about 'Every woman has her charm?' Because both are true. There's something to like about each and every one, tall ones, skinny ones, short ones, fat ones. I don't care what conventional wisdom says about it. I'm not afraid to be attracted to someone because society says I shouldn't. Fat chicks can be hot, too.

"Yeah, I said that. Got a problem with it? Didn't think so. Fuck your shame. When I say I got lucky last night, I mean it."

They had stopped babbling.

"You wanna know what I think is the most attractive quality in a woman?"

They stood, rapt and riveted, silent, awaiting my answer.

"That she wants to have sex with ME."