I placed my purse on the tacky, red upholstery my local diner filled its dining room with. I was too overdressed to be here, but I’m a 24 year old girl, how can I not want to show off? Especially with my boyfriend? I sat down and fixed my belt which was slowly suffocating me, or so it felt. I gently tousled my curled hair back, and looked at the waitress of whom was handing us our menus. She looked at me, visbly making remarks about the way I appeared in her head. Kathy, as her name tag read, jotted down our drinks and left us to decide what we wanted to eat. I looked at the menu. All I kept thinking of was the calorie intake of all these fatty, “homemade”, goodies. “Hmm, I think I’ll have the cobb salad, sans the egg. What about you, babe?” Scott looked up from the tattered army green menu and said, “I think I’ll get the spare ribs.” Eww, fat. By then the waitress appeared and served us our drinks. “Are you ready to order?” she said, annoyed as hell.