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Exsqueeze Me?

We're standing in a bar last night, watching the kids sing along to pop anthems I don't all the words to, enjoying a pint or two. I've been there several times and it can get really crowded ... you know, when you have to squeeze by people and try not to spill your drink on them as they dance around, showing off the choreography they've learned after watching way too many videos.

But I was out with Larry so it was still early and not too jam packed. I notice this tallish dark haired guy coming towards me, with a girl behind him and I take a half-step back to make room, of which there was already plenty.

As he walks by, he pats my stomach. Really gently, but like 4 or 5 times. It was so not an excuse me you're in my way pat (one touch is the general limit on such silent "excuse me" maneuvers). L and I looked each other at the same time, heads cocked to the side and eyebrows raised ... and like the good guy he is, sensed my confusion.

"I think he liked you," L says to me reassuringly.

I wasn't convinced ... "did he just non-verbally call me fat?"

Larry just smiled and shrugged, "well we can't really be sure. But let's go with the first opti