As it turns out, they were a very nice couple, they owned the local Happy Hippo Yogurt franchise. We exchanged introductions. He said “Hi, my name is Buff, she’s Bernie, we’re Buff and Bernie.” It turns out that Buff and Bernie we’re looking for a new sedan for her to drive. As bad luck would have it, I didn’t have what they wanted on the showroom floor. Our inventory for that particular model was parked way out back behind the building. So I said, “if you wait right here, I will bring one around for you to test drive.” Bernie said, “that’s OK Steve, we’ll walk out there with you, do you mind honey if we follow him out there?” Buff said, still gasping for breath from his long and arduous trek to the showroom, “no problem love, you go ahead, I’ll wait right here.”
Bernie was quite a trooper, so we set off on the inventory walk. Surprisingly, it didn’t take her long to land on a car. Once the selection was made, I suggested we go back inside so I could get the keys and drive it around front for both of them to see, she agreed. We walked back inside where Buff was patiently waiting at the up desk, dwarfing the seat. We really didn't have anywhere else for him to sit other than upstairs in the waiting area. I didn’t think Buff walked up too many steps anymore. As he was sitting there with his blubber hanging down between his legs, I couldn’t help but wonder, how does he wipe his ass? I wasn't sure his arms were long enough. Needless to say, I didn’t ask.
Breaking the pause, Bernie said “honey, I found one I like.” Buff replied, “that’s great sweetie, but are you OK from that hike around the building?” “Yea, no problem she said.” Just then, Buff puts a hand on Bernie’s shoulder and says, “you know Steve, that’s what I love about her, she doesn’t sweat much for a fat girl, does she?” Bernie quickly smiled and said “honey, you’re so sweet.” "Let me go out to the truck and get that mattress pad so we can soak up this pool of sweat pouring off your forehead." We all smiled and chuckled. I found it amusing they joked with each other about their weight.
At that point I excused myself and left to get the car. When I returned, Buff said “Steve, leave the drivers door open, I need to see the interior space; I may need to drive this sled one day.” I’m thinking, NO WAY can we fit you in that seat, we don't have a shoehorn large enough. Even if we could, can you imagine the wrestling match between him and the airbag in the event of a front end collission? Bernie looked at me straight faced and said, “Steve, I'll bet if you grease up that door jam and throw a Twinkie on the dashboard, we can get his fat ass in there.”
Ah, the people we meet.
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