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"Fred,"
Betty, the widow next door must be watching him like a hawk. He'd biked back from the office hoping to have a chance to show the widow that his legs weren't skinny any more. He'd worked on his bike in the front yard flaunting his assets and hoping that Betty would notice and here she was.
"Fred," she continued. "You know I think I made a mistake. Your thighs aren't skinny at all. The sun must have been in my eyes. It's your calves. Butch had such lovely calf muscles. They were big as a Christmas ham. Take care."
With that comment, Betty walked back to her front porch.
"Damn," Fred thought. "The woman is flirting. My destiny is clear but I've got to find someone with killer calf muscles."
"Enough work for today." Fred thought as he stored his bike in the garage. "Time for a shower and some beer."
Thirty minutes later Fred was settled in his lazyboy with a cold beer at hand surfing the channels.
Fred always liked the sports channels even though they only made him more conscious of his own limitations. With Daira's help however Fred was slowly correcting nature. He started looking through the carious sports to find which sports produced athletes with the most massive calf muscles. It took a whole afternoon and two six packs of beer before Fred hit paydirt. Here and there in any sport, there were athletes with big calf muscles but Fred discovered that two sports had the highest percentage- Bowling and biking and that inspired Fred. He reached for the phone.
"Hi, Rich. It's Fred. ...Yeah, been a while but I was just watching the bowling championship on TV and thought about you. Still a big bowler?"
"Yeah, good to talk to you. Let's get together and do some serious bowling. What do you say?"
Fred hung up and dialed again.
"What's up Larry? Fred here.......Yeah, I've been busy. You still a serious biker? .........100 miles a week, you say. You must be way out of my league these days but I'd sure like to get together and catch up... learn about what it's like to be a real biker. Sure, lets to lunch. I'll check my calendar and get back to you."
Fred chugged the last of the beer and closed his eyes. Between Rich and Larry, he was sure he'd find some killer thighs.
Fred decides to start with
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