So as you may have noticed, I didn't exactly have a day job.
For a long time now, I've been floating by on scholarship money and hand-outs from my parents. When I lived in the dorms, I wasn't exactly paying rent—the more money that could be spent on cheap pizza and booze for me and Amy, the better! My Dad was great and he sent me a little care package each month, and even my Mom wasn't content on letting me starve... even if it was only because I hadn't told her about what my Dad sent me.
Point was, I was living the college kid dream; all I had to do was keep my grades up and I'd keep the money coming in.
What I didn't factor in for was rent.
Between the four of us, the house was pretty affordable! Kate working at the bar and Donna doing some on-campus paperwork, they'd done their best to keep the roof over their heads before Amy and I waddled in. But now that the two of us were there, we were... sorta kinda expensive to feed. And to house. And clothe and entertain... Amy and I didn't come cheap! Which was why we inevitably had to get jobs. And trust me when I say that I wasn't happy about it.
"UUUGH." Amy moaned, even fatter and more out of shape than when we moved in, "How am I supposed to find a job? Like, nobody's hiring."
"Have you even looked?" I rolled my eyes, "Like, for real, have you even looked?"
"I mean, no but... aren't we still in a recession?"
Even though some of my roommates weren't exactly what you'd call "industrious" (at least, not after two hundred pounds of fat ass found its way into her pants) I hadn't been so easily defeated. Just because I was a big fat blimp didn't mean that I couldn't put my mind to something and do it! How do you think I got so big in the first place?
"Well have you gotten a job yet?" Amy asked snottily from the couch, cracking open a beer
"I'll have you know, blubber butt, that I've got an interview in an hour." I raised my nose and carried myself out in faux indignation, "So yeah. Probably."
I had gotten all dressed up for the occasion. I know it was counterproductive, but interview clothes weren't exactly on the top of my "make sure you can fit into this" list, so I had to go out and buy a new outfit. And trust me, clothes my size don't come cheap. I had to break out my non-pizza, non-boredom emergency fund that I kept stashed away in my dresser. But trust me when I say it was worth it—I looked big and bangin'.
I bought a half-sleeve white top just the right size. It hugged my shape and size tightly, but it wasn't constrictive. You could see the various rolls and folds of my body as it struggled against the stretchy white material, and the outline of my tummy tiers were clear as day, you could even see them bounce when I walked. The frills around the low collar helped tone down the "over-prominence" of my girls, so hopefully I wouldn't scare my (hopefully!) future boss off with a perceived sluttiness or whatever. Down below, I'd squeezed my ass into some black flowy dress pants and crammed my fat little feet into the cutest shoes. I'd gotten my nails done, broke out every Youtube makeup tutorial—I'd contoured the hell out of my face.
Just a few finishing touches to my luscious blonde locks, and I was out the door!
"At least pick up dinner!" I heard Amy holler, "Kate's not gonna be in tonight!"
"Kay!" I hollered back rolling my eyes and shaking my head
I tried not to pay Amy any attention. She'd get a job. She'd have to. Right now the biggest concern, aside from wondering if I'd even fit in my Uber driver's teeny-tiny car, was my interview at...
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