“… If you look in the closet on the right, I think you'll find some jeans and shirts to fit you better. You too, sir," the waiter continues, turning to Ted. "No sense wearing tight clothes when you enjoying good food."
You stand up, and there's an ominous ripping sound from your jeans. Your belly flops out over the waistband and hangs out an enormous distance - you're used to not seeing your feet, but the size of your belly is now something else. You waddle gently over to the closet - funny how you hadn't noticed it before - and open the door. Inside you see a large, well-lighted room filled with clothes racks, a few mirrors, and a generous, curtained cubicle. You look around and see that the racks of clothes come in sizes from not much bigger than Ted was to enormous – bigger than you are. Scratch that, far bigger than you are – big enough to make you feel small. You walk in further, and hear Ted behind you.
“Wow,” he says gently, and you turn to see him holding up a pair of truly vast jeans. “Do you suppose there really are guys who fit in these?” he asks quietly.
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