Meatballs with a Chance of Clouds

Story Submitted by Cal:

I'm six feet, and at the time of this date, I was about 200 pounds. I wrote to Allie online, we seemed to have a lot in common, and I asked her if she wanted to meet up for dinner. She accepted.

The photos that I had on my profile were all current (least recent one was a little less than a year old) so I'm not sure how the following came about, but came about it did.

We were seated at the restaurant dinner table when she said, "So, those profile pictures a little outdated?"

I asked, "What do you mean?"

She pointed up and down at me and said, "Well, you're a meatball."

I looked down at myself, as if my body had just changed shape over the past few seconds. "I am?"

She said, "Uh, yeah. How much do you weigh?"

I said, "Two-hundred."

She nearly choked. "Two-hundred?" she repeated, "You're easily three."

"I'm not. Two-hundred-two, to be precise."

"Holy shit, you're a house," she said, "A meatball."

I said, "Sorry. I'm 200."

She said, "Let's make a bet: I have a scale in the trunk of my car. After dinner, I want to weigh you."

It was the strangest thing I had ever done, but I agreed to it. She agreed to do whatever I wanted, within reason, if I turned out to be closer to 200 than 300. So obsessed she was with the idea that any attraction I ever felt for her was washed away by the time that the weigh-in occurred.

After dinner was over, we made it to her car and opened the trunk. She pulled out an electronic scale and set it up on the ground. I took off my shoes and stepped onto it. It read 205.

I stepped off of it and smiled at her. "Now, about that bet—"

She pushed me aside and jumped onto the scale, herself. I looked away as she checked her own weight, then turned to me and said, "It was a momentary fluke. Try again."

I groaned and stepped on it once more. Two-hundred-five. She picked up the scale and shook it, then told ms to try again. Two-hundred-five.

I suggested, "If we wait here long enough, it might go down to 204 overnight. Maybe even 203."

"It's obviously broken," she said, throwing it into her trunk and slamming the trunk closed, "This doesn't count."

I asked her, "Did it register your weight correctly?"

She said, "It doesn't matter. You're obviously over 205. Closer to 300."

I didn't know what to tell her. "I don't know what to tell you," I said, "So is this bet on or not?"

"Bet's canceled," she said, "Stupid thing's obviously broken. I'll see you later."

She gave me a quick hug, then hopped into her car and drove off. I never did find out if she had her scale repaired, but as for the bet, the thing I was going to ask her to do was apologize.


  1. Scientist Fiance is 6'2" and about 200lbs, but a good amount of it is muscle from weight lifting and years of karate training. He's got a pooch, but nothing huge. I don't know how Cal was shaped, but there's a significant difference between 200 and 300 pounds. She was a cunt.

  2. Allie comes off as cretinous and unreasonable, but there's still possibly a lesson to be learned here. If you're 200-or-so and people mistake you for 300, then you're not wearing it well. Time to hit the gym and/or look into whether there's anything about your wardrobe or physical features that make you look fatter than you are.

  3. My husband is 6 feet even and I personally don't find him attractive if he goes too far under 200lbs. Maybe your clothes didn't help or as Andrew said, maybe you aren't wearing your 200lbs well. But as Nikki said, there's a huge difference between 200 and 300 pounds and I think her behavior was uncalled for.

  4. Her behavior would have been uncalled for even if he'd been 300 pounds, though.

  5. What a stupid cow. And what's she doing with a scale in her boot? Maybe some kind of closet bulimic? Though I suppose all bulimics are in the closet (vomiting, perhaps).

  6. Team Cal! Looks like Our Hero dodged a bullet there! Allie was a real witch-with-a-B to him, and at that point, the number on the scale was a moot issue. This is NOT about weight. It's about NAME-CALLING. This mean, nasty, vicious excuse for a woman called this poor gentleman names. That was no way to treat a HUMAN BEING, regardless of body contour. Good riddance to bad rubbish and the one nice thing this Allie woman did for Cal is was to free him up to find a decent, loving woman who will treat him like an emperor.

  7. On behalf of all women, I deeply apologize for her atrocious behavior, Cal.

    That being said, Jared, I love the title! Have you seen the movie? NPH is a god among men.

  8. ...she had a scale in her trunk?


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