Why I don't bang out more chicks that I could

1. The Brian Haskell Rule

When I was studying in Paris junior year, I visited a friend studying in London. Over the course of one Saturday night, I hooked up with two of her big-tittied flatmates. (not at the same time, alas.) To this day, this feat is the highpoint of my sexual coups.

However, these two girls visited said friend back at Tufts the following semester, and had apparently put on some weight. As a result, several of my guy friends enjoyed tormenting me with the fact that I had hooked up with two fat chicks. Brian Haskell being one of them. I think they referred to them as "deuce, deuce-and-a-half".

As a result, when debating hooking up with a girl, I always worry that my friends would make fun of me for said chick. Or, if I was the friend, would I harrass them for hooking up with a chick who's gross or fat or pimply or smelly or looks like gonorrhea, taking into account that I am far crueler than any of my friends could ever be. (In my defense, though, I would like to point out that Brian's girlfriend senior year had a huge butt and I never said a word. Partially because either he or she could've beat me up.)

I think this is a valid consideration: Would I make fun of me for hooking up with this person? True, you can take beer goggles into account, and everyone needs a slumpbuster now and then, but if you were just a casual observer, and you'd point out that your hook-up made Star Jones look attractive, would you still hook up with her? Or would you just push aside those fat rolls and go for it, no matter the drubbing you'd take from your friends?