pounds, at least.
Fats: “Yes I do, I surf.”Tiffany: “Wow. I bet you be looking like a sea lion out
there in that wet suit and everything.”Fats: “What’chu talkin’ ’bout? I got my own line of wet
suits and my own line of surfboards.”Tiffany: “Is they plus-sized? That would make sense.”Fats: “NO! THEY AIN’T NO DAMN PLUS-SIZED!”Tiffany: “Wow. ͳat’s pretty amazing. You know, I
surf too. I take kids surfing every summer.”Fats: “Oh, maybe I’ll donate some surfboards. Here’s
my number. Give me a call sometime.”So I gave him a call, but every time I called him about
the surfboards and stuff, he don’t want to talk about that:
Fats: “So you think we can go out to dinner? What do
you like to do for fun?”Tiffany: “You trying to date me or give me the
surfboards? I want the surfboards, I don’t want to date
you.”