Little People

In college
I had a roommate
Stacy,
4 foot, 11 inches
the definition of “petite”
Although she was tiny,
she had quite the
cute (literally)
figure,
tiny rounded hips
and tiny rose-tipped
teats.
One evening
she invited me
home
for dinner.
Her family was
just like her,
the largest being
her “big” brother
who weighed in at
150 pounds
and stood
5 foot, 5 inches.
I felt like Gulliver amongst the
Little People,
a gross
5 foot, 7 inch giant.
The meal her mother served
was delectable—
green salad
iced tea
saffron chicken breasts
homemade sourdough bread
with butter
and chocolate mousse for dessert.
But what shocked me
was the portion size:
each person was served
one tiny bowl of green salad
one juice-sized glass of iced tea
one half of one saffron chicken breast
one half slice of sourdough bread
(with a tiny speck of butter already on it)
and each chocolate mousse was served
in a shot glass.
(I’m not exaggerating.)
That’s all she’d made.
I left that night
my tongue satisfied,
my stomach ravenous,
and I watched my generous thighs
spread as I sat my
165 pound frame
into the driver’s seat
of my car,
feeling like
the definition of “whale”.
That night
at an “all night study” group
I consumed an entire order
of French fries
two cups of coffee
with cream
and shared an entire plate
of cheese-smothered
nachos with my date.
All Big People,
the largest being
my date
6 foot, 4 inches
the smallest being
me
5 foot, 7 inches.
Big portions
for Big People…
Now do I want to be
Big
or
Little?