We complimented each other on our looks and went off to dinner. I was surprised when she ordered the sixteen-ounce T-bone. The baked potato that came with it must have weighed two pounds. There was nothing on her plate when she was finished. Then she ordered dessert and coffee.

"How much do you weigh?" I blurted out.

She flushed slightly. "You're old enough to know that's something you should never ask a woman, but around one fifteen. Why?"

"Where do you put it all?"

She grinned. "I've always had a high metabolism, plus I hit the gym four days a week, minimum. You?"

"Same. More when I have the time....