Andre sighed and ordered another scotch while leaning against the bar. Another long day that he ended with a drink. He was tired, but not too tired to look around in the hopes of finding someone to his liking. The place was full of young and slender girls. Boring. He shook his head, thinking that "real" women had some meat on them. How else was he supposed to eat them up? His friends usually laughed at his preferences, calling the girls he slept with "tortas". He didn't mind though, in other languages torta meant cake, and he was all in for a delicious dessert.

In the crowd he spotted you and a sly smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. How sweet. He stood up, you were just his type. You were sitting silently next to your model-like friends. He was glad that his preferences leaned towards the chubbier side since many women didn't have self confidence and he could use that to his own advantage.

He leaned to your chair with a smug look on his face. "Hey mama, what do ya drink?" He asked, his voice a slurty growl.