"Hello, my name is Susan"

The following is a short story I wrote. I hope you get the point.

"Hello, my name is Susan."

Tim silently groaned as the woman stuck out her hand for a handshake. "Oh God, why do I agree to meet these women that I have talked to online?" he thought to himself. He took another gulp of his drink.

"Hello, my name is Tim Johnson. Sit down." He spoke to her without even bothering to stand up and pull out her chair.

She smiled and sat down arranging her dress and putting aside her purse. He could tell that she had taken extra time and effort with her appearance. But, for what?

"Want something to drink?" he asked her, motioning to the waiter, knowing that drinks were going to be the only thing that kept him going tonight.

"I will take some iced tea please," she said. "I rarely drink."

"Oh God," Tim thought, "it's going to be a long night."

As he gulped his drink and ordered another one, he decided to hell with it and that he had enough of this blind dating. "Look," he said, "I am going to be totally honest with you. I don't like fat women. Why didn't you tell me when we were talking online that you were fat?"

"Because you never asked." Susan replied flatly. "I was hoping you would be a nice man and not judge people and would know it's what is on the inside that matters and not the outside."

"Well, you hoped wrong. Why do women let themselves get fat? Don't you know how to limit your portions? Watch what you eat? Exercise? Fat people are nothing but lazy!"

Susan couldn't believe how rude he was being; but, she decided to consider the source and to stand her ground. "Look, you can call me overweight; but, you should not call me lazy! I graduated the top of my class at college. Maybe I decided to exercise my brain and not my body!"

Tim ordered another drink. He was tired. Tired of women using him, tired of trying to find the right woman, tired of being alone, and definitely tired of these blind dates.

"I am surprised they have panty hose in your size," he said. "Don't your thighs try to start a fire whenever you walk and they rub against each other that way?"

"It's probably easier for me to find pantyhose that fit, " she said, "than for you trying to find your penis when you go pee! Research shows that a man that does not like or tolerate an overweight woman has a smaller than average penis." Susan replied matter-of-factly.

"Time for another drink and another round." Tim said. "I will have you know that I have more than an adequate penis. I even have references to prove it. Not that you will ever see it."

Susan smiled. "That's a relief." she said.

Tim decided the heck with it. "So, why did you let yourself get so fat? Like those doughnuts too much? I work out in a gym three times a week and I ride my bicycle at least two times a week. Couldn't you do that?"

Susan just stared at him. Then she looked over and saw two women. "Look over there at those two women. One is about a size 8 and the other is about a size 14. If I weren't here, you would think that size 14 woman was fat. And if she wasn't here, you would think that size 8 woman is fatter than that size 2 woman over there. See! No matter what, there will always be someone smaller and someone bigger than me. Let's say you got your wish and all women were a size 2, oh, then you would find something else to complain about - maybe their boobs are too small, maybe their butt isn't big enough, or their hair is too short, or their ears are too large. It will always be something to judge or compare to others. Think how dull this world would be if everyone was the same size - the same robot form."

Tim was glassy-eyed by then, having had way too many drinks. "Well, stay fat and have a heart attack!" he slurred.

"Well, being in my line of work, I see even the skinny people having heart attacks. Something is going to get you - might as well be happy while you are here." She smiled sweetly at him.

Susan knew none of this had sunk in - it never does with men like Tim. But, she also knew he was drunk.

"Look," she said, "you have had way too much to drink to be driving. Let me take you home."

"Oh, God, no!" Tim cried. "I don't want anyone seeing me with you!"

"Well, can I call you a cab?" Susan asked.

"Hell no! I can make it home." And with that, he threw down some money on the table for his drinks, got up, staggered, and walked out the door.

Two months later, Susan was busy at work. "We have a new arrival Susan." said the ambulance driver as he watched the workers wheel in the new patient to the nursing home where Susan worked. "He was in a car wreck and has spent the last two months in the hospital. He doesn't have any family or friends, so the doctors sent him here. Poor guy. He is paralyzed from the neck down. Drunk driving. And he's only 34. Will spend the rest of his life here. Shriveling up. His name is Tim Johnson.

Susan got up from her desk. She followed the ambulance workers to the room. They were just getting him into the bed. Slowly Tim turned his head towards her. His face showed no emotion - there was none left - not after two months of hospitalization, therapy, and the diagnosis of never walking again. But he recognized her - the last woman he had sat in a bar with, the last woman he had talked to. The last woman.

"Hello, my name is Susan."