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type, shaped a little like an egg, even before he put on the extra
pounds. and she was a knockout with her big tits and all in all perfectly
if solidly made. Joe had thought once of becoming a professional bowler
but he wasn't good enough. He had wondered what you had to have to
put you in a different class. Was it some endowment, or just character?
Bowling might have been his ticket out of the factory but it wasn't,
he was just another little fat man with a bowling bag who could put
together a few strikes when he was in the zone. The country was full
of such people and some of them were cleaning toilets just like Joe.
Christine's family hadn't liked him though he'd been making good money
and they'd put the pressure on him to get the house with all his savings
and hadn't put in a cent themselves so she was a gold digger at heart
though with half a brain she could have done a lot better for herself
from the start. Go figure it, he'd tell his brother,
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and even
got to thinking that maybe there was something to him after all, a
notion he was disabused of soon enough. For sure she'd been sleeping
around and sometimes she'd tease him too, walking around in a slip
or a nightie and not letting him touch her. They were married just
two years. There'd never be another woman like her, or any woman,
he was sure, and he needed one just as he needed those millions of
dollars to help him forget who he was, as he had in those first few
weeks when he thought she loved him. Scrubbing his hands and climbing
out of the nylon suit at the end of every shift he'd put the toilets
behind him and have a couple of beers with the crew. Then he'd walk
all the way home for the exercise and to save the carfare. He could
hardly make it up the stairs and knew he'd have to move before he
found himself stuck somewhere and needing the fire department to get
him out. This didn't stop him from consuming 5-pound bags of potato
chips and
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