I'm Not Dense!

I’m Not Dense!
by _aliased

Elaine Palmer is most definitely a nerd, but not the kind that your mind imagines based on defined stereotypes. She’s smart, good looking, and worked hard for the money she has in the bank. However, she’s definitely a geek. Her introverted personality, weird hobbies and fantasies, and a self-admitted lack of street smarts all contributes to her being single. If you know your meme, Elaine is “forever alone”, unless she changes something...

Fast-forward in time to today, tomorrow, yesterday, whatever time you think this story would take place. The moon is visible in downtown Chicago, and Elaine is ordering her favorite indulgence: an "iced red tea" from Argo Tea.

“Medium iced red tea, please.”
“Sure, that will be $4.55.”
“Here you go.”
“Thanks Elaine. Staying to watch the jazz tonight, right?”
“Yep, going to enjoy myself upstairs while I wait… re-reading The Historian got me all perked up, especially since I loathe those Twilight movies…”
“Well, enjoy yourself! Your admirer is still stalking you by-the-way.”

The two turn, and see the stark outline of a man that could be mistaken for a doctor, but this just confuses and frightens Elaine even more.

“So… creepy, the guy looks like one of the vamps I’m reading about. Why do you think hes always stalking me, asking me what I’m drinking, and similar stupid questions?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“No?”
“You must be dense, are you dense?”
“No…”
“He obviously wants to get to know you, most likely fuck you.”
“… Thanks for the heads up… now I’m worried about him raping me.”
“Every time I see you in here, you’re always nose deep in a book. Open your eyes, that guy could be your dream come true!”
“Nope, I like my little comfort zone - speaking of which, if you will excuse me, I’m quite uncomfortable right now.”

Elaine takes her beverage upstairs to her special corner, and the mysterious stranger makes his move to follow. As soon as Elaine’s rubenesque ass hits the chair the stranger reciprocates.

“Hello, miss…?”
“Palmer.”
“Miss Palmer. Hello, my name is David Wilson. I don’t mean to frighten you, or put any fear into your heart, I just want to know if you like men.”
“Wha… what are you asking?”
“I mean, I've come in here for three weeks now, stirring up conversation with you, trying to see what kind of shit you’re on, and you just basically ignore me. So I’m tired of playing games. Are you interested in me or not?”
“I… I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“Simple. Yes, or no.”
“… No. There’s got to be a catch.”
“No… ok, your choice. I’ll leave you now, but let me give you my card. You got some weird social problems and I’d like to help you.”
“Whatever, just leave me alone, please.”

As the jazz ensemble performs their music for the cheap and bourgeois crowd, Elaine spends the time in a trance reading through her book. Hours eventually pass, and at the end of the night Elaine walks home alone, thinking out aloud.

"I really need to get my shit together, that man was nice, and I just completely iced him out."

Suddenly, two glamorous women, arm candy for some charismatic thug, carelessly brush past Elaine. Dazed, she stares at the women for an explanation but they are in another world. They don't care, and all Elaine sees are the phat asses of those bitches. Those were simply some busty, mindless PAWGs.

"I see all these dumb skanks walking around with a man.. what do they have that I don't?"

The PAWGs keep walking: booty popping, swaying their hips, and drawing focus to their artificial breasts. Thinking quietly for a second, Elaine comes to a conclusion.

“Confidence! That’s the key!”
“And that confidence, where does it come from… oh… my… god…”
“Their breasts! I get it now… bigger breasts equal larger confidence!”
“That is so my next research project.”

Over the next two weeks, Elaine researches breast size, attempting to increase her bust line by any means necessary. Combing over information containing bust enhancement creams, herbal remedies, breast forms, push-up bras and so forth; she comes to an understanding that breast implants are the simplest solution!

“Duh, Occam's Razor Elaine, c'mon! The simplest solution is the best one.”

And so, Elaine now has come to research for a cosmetic surgeon. There are plenty of options available, but while scouring the internet she stumbles over a familiar name: David Wilson, MD. She remembered how he wanted to help with her "social problems", and decides to give him a call.

“Hello, David?”
“Yes, this is Doctor David Wilson speaking, who is this?”
“This is Elaine, the woman you've been stalking at Argo Tea.”
“Oh, well how can I help you?”
“I’d like to come in for a consultation concerning breast implants.”
“Ok… can I ask why?”
“I need some more self-assurance and I basically concocted this hypothesis: Larger breasts bring larger confidence.”
“… (I thought she was smarter than these bimbos walkin' around with my work, oh well.)”
“Doctor?”
“Sure… I’ll schedule you for tomorrow.”

The next day in the Doctor’s room, Elaine and David view the vastly different shapes and sizes that are in stock. Silicone, Saline, and the banned Polypropylene String implants; teardrop, round and the experimental concave, egg, and hexagon shapes. The pair also looked at what methods to utilize for breast expansion: like Macrolane injections, that produce increased breast density while being a non-invasive surgery; incisions inframammary, periareolar, axillary, or insertion through the belly button; if the implant should be subglandular or submuscular, and so forth.

Eventually Elaine made her knowledgeable and informed decision to remain modest lest she acquire the wrong sort of attention. 500cc Silicone teardrop breast implants, with an axillary incision and subglandular placement. Big breasts for her small frame, but since any visible scar would be under her arm, it would be hard to tell she had fake tits! (not really).

“Now you know these are going to heavy, right Elaine?”
“I can imagine after holding one in my hand, but I think I’ll manage.”
“I’m serious, these are real dense. The increase in volume to your chest will cause issues with your back.”
“Hey, if you are a professional like you say you are, stop being so concerned with me, and do your job.”
“Okie dokie. Can’t say I didn't’ warn you. We can do the procedure the day after I get my money.”
“Great! I can’t wait!”
Three days later, Elaine goes under the knife for five hours for surgery.

Two weeks pass, and the recovery period has ended. Elaine is back at Argo Tea for the weekly jazz session, while noticing everybody in the cafe ogling her.
“Hey, what’s everybody staring at me for?”
“Are you dense? We aren't staring at you, we're just interested in your new 'friends'!”
“I’m not dense!! Well, maybe just my chest.”

Frustrated, Elaine storms out of Argo Tea and heads to the closest nightclub. Able to easily breeze through the bouncers, the mundanes were visibly pissed. Once inside, Elaine saw the the dance floor and began to put her experiment to the test: How many of these hot, sticky night-owls could she bewitch tonight?

Unfortunately for Elaine, two huge problems arose:
1. She’s a geek, a nerd, she can't dance or carry a rhythm.
2. Her center of gravity isn't the same and she goes Humpty-Dumpty on the dance floor.

Elaine, can you still believe in your "confidence" after tonight?