"Why do fat people allways wear sportswear?"

Was the question that Alex posed to me after we had
eaten our pizza and killed the best part of a large bottle
of vodka.

" Elasticated waists?" I offered weakly.

"It just seems odd to me." Said Alex.

"Well I think that you are being very fattist and
not at all nice." said Ruth and blew smoke out through
her nose (I suppose to make a point).

"Says anorexic Annie!" Scoffed Alex, she was right
really of course as sometimes Ruth survived soley on
the white flecks you sometimes get in real ale.

"Just because I am thin does'nt mean I don't feel
for fat people." Ruth said tersely.

"But would you date a fat guy?" I asked, Alex sat
up and looked quite interested.

"Yeah, would you?" She challenged.

Ruth glared at us. "I would. If he was nice."

"But he might have bigger breasts then you!" I giggled
Ruth would have trouble filling an A cup.

"Give me something to play with them. Anyway I'm
off if you two are going to be nasty again." True to
her word she left. Ruth was cool, but she could be
prickly.

The rest of the evening deteriorated into drunken
chaos, Alex crashing over and I having to leave for
work with a hangover (again). The worst thing was
I was too drunk (still) to drive my Vespa (circa 1969
from my Aunt Pat). Instead I took the tube with the
rest of the morning crew, you know the early train with
cleaners, catering assitants and perverts. I wondered
what the day would offer ( cause to tell the truth I did
not have a lot to give it.)
Becka (speak soon)