Monica woke up the next morning on the couch, the TV blaring some early morning cookery show. She sat up and attempted to brush the crumbs off of her grey sweatshirt with one hand, hitching up the back of her pants with the other. She got up and yawned, the stretching motion causing her pale potbelly to poke out. She gave it a rub and smacked her lips.
"That's coming along nicely." She thought to herself, making her way to the bathroom. When she re-emerged, feeling a lot fresher, she saw Rachel was already up and dressed for work, and was pouring herself some cereal.
"Oh, hey Rach, I was just about to make some breakfast," she smiled, "how do bacon and eggs sound?"
Rachel looked at her roommate. Standing up, her weight gain was even more obvious, her pudgy potbelly sticking out like she had a basketball under her shirt. Her face was a little rounder too, and while she had never looked to closely before, she reckoned Monica's breasts might have gone up a cup size or two.
"Uh, no thanks, I'll just stick with cereal." She considered saying something, but bit her tongue.
Rachel continued to observe Monica as she prepared her breakfast. When she bent down to grab the frying pan from under the sink, she saw her rear had also gotten a little bigger. After generously coating the pan in butter, the sizzle and smell of bacon began to fill the apartment, and Rachel began to regret her decision of bland cereal with skimmed milk.
After frying three eggs, Monica transferred the food to a plate and sat down, leaving the pan to soak in the sink. Rachel watched as her friend gleefully tucked into the fatty feast, knife and fork moving like a blur as she packed it away, grease slurping down her chin.
When she finished, letting out a small burp and wiping her mouth on her sleeve, Rachel could hold it in no longer.
"Monica, sweetie, what is happening with you? Ever since you got back from that course you've been eating like a pig, and you've put on more than a few pounds in the process. What's up?"
Monica felt guilty. She could see that her friend was worried about her, and decided to come clean.
"Well, I was at the course, and it was amazing, all these great chefs, with so much experience, people who have worked in the greatest restaurants in the world. And they all have one thing in common. They are all fat!"
Rachel was puzzled. "So?"
"So?" Monica replied, "Don't you see? You can't get anywhere in this business unless you're a little heavy, and all the best chefs are total lard asses!"
"Listen, Mon, I don't think..."
But Monica interrupted her. "Think about it, why do you think I can't get a job in a decent restaurant? You've tried my food, right?"
Rachel hesitated, "Yeah..."
"And its amazing, right?"
"Yeah..."
"Then how come the only jobs I can get are in greasy diners and theme restaurants? 'Never trust a skinny chef', my Mom has that embroidered on a pillow. If I want a decent job, I have to put on weight!" Monica sat back heavily. She had clearly been thinking a lot about this, and had made up her mind. Rachel knew better than to argue with Monica when her mind was made up.
"Okay Mon,if you think that this," she placed a hand on Monica's bloated stomach, "Is what you need to succeed, then I'm not going to stop you, at least not until you hit three hundred pounds!" she smiled.
Monica laughed and pulled her friend into a hug. "Thanks Rach."
Rachel got up and put her dish in the sink, and grabbed her keys.
"Um, hey Rach, do you think I could drop by Bloomingdales later? I could uh, use some new clothes." Monica asked, picking at a bit of bacon rind that was caught in her teeth.
Rachel grinned. "Maybe something with an elastic waistband?"
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