💬 Off-Topic Deathfat Encounters IRL - This thread is not your personal army.

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Imagine the smell of the airplane bathroom....
 
In the pre-Covid era, I had three volunteer gigs. At one of them, there were three women on staff who, while very nice, were absolute chairbusters, made worse by the fact they were so young (mid-20s to early 30s).

The biggest one, who I'm going to guess was about 5'5" and nearing 400 lbs, ran all the educational programs, and got laid off back in March, after the lockdowns started. She was incredibly sweet, friendly, and enthusiastic about her job, and while I only saw her in passing once a week, I was heartbroken to hear she'd lost her job. I occasionally think about her and wonder how she's doing.

At the next gig, there weren't many seriously fat people because so much of the job was animal care and farm-type labor, plus the site was on a steeply-sloping lot, and even working in the main building required frequent going up and down stairs. But one of the staff still managed to be a total butterball, and despite being generally agreeable engaged in some mildly cow-like behavior because of it.

Being a sphere, she of course drove a tiny hybrid car plastered with environmentalist/lefty bumper stickers (including a Michelle Obama for President sticker on it that made me roll my eyes even before I got redpilled). When the parking lot was full she'd park it by the dumpsters, just outside the back gate, so she wouldn't have to walk all the way up from the road. But in doing so, she made deliveries more difficult (especially pallet-loads of stuff) because everybody had to navigate around her car to get to the gate, and she blocked the gate to the dumpsters, forcing everybody to go around through the back gate and climb a set of rickety steps to gain access.

The problem with non-profits is that the people who staff them are usually too fucking nice to say anything until shit reaches a crisis point, and volunteers, who are also niceness-afflicted, don't feel its their place to say anything. But I'm kind of a bitch, with a low bullshit tolerance, so told her (nicely) that where she was parking her car was a problem, and that if she'd just park a few feet further over, it would not be.

And, to her credit, she was cool with that.

But the thing is, it had never occurred to her that it would be a problem in the first place. Much of her job was administrative, so she wasn't hauling out trash or receiving shipments--therefore, she simply gave zero thought as to whether parking in that spot was going to hinder anybody else. If it didn't directly affect her, she didn't think about it. So she was actually surprised to learn that where she parked was a problem, even after I showed her how I couldn't get in to the dumpster, and pointed out how she was obstructing clear access to the back gate. To her, it was just an empty space in which she could park; that it was going to be used for any other purpose simply didn't register. And she'd been doing that shit for five years, without ever stopping to consider it until I told her.

Turns out, she did a lot of stuff like that--doing what was most convenient for her, with zero thought given to how others might be affected. But hey, she stopped blocking the dumpster and back gate after that, so my job was done.

Oh, and the other thing she'd do occasionally was heat an entire Stouffer's family-sized macaroni and cheese or lasagne for her lunch in the convection oven in the break room. She'd pile half of it on a plate, go back to her office to eat it, and leave the rest in the oven to keep it warm. This meant nobody else could use the oven between about noon and 2:00 PM without being the asshole who took her lunch out and let it go cold. There was a certain amount of grumbling about that, but again, everybody was too afflicted by Nice to confront her about it.

One of the rules of the break room was that if food didn't have your name on it, and was sitting out unattended, it was fair game--anybody could eat it. That rule was even posted on the wall, in big type; you couldn't miss it.

So when I was alone in the break room, and she'd left her lunch in the oven again, I started taking maybe a third of what was left, and eating it, because hey, free food, why the fuck not?

The first time I did it, she got really upset that somebody had eaten her lunch--and from the way she carried on, you would have thought someone had eaten her entire goddamned lunch, not maybe 1/6 of it.

It took me stealing four helpings of her lunch before she stopped leaving it in the damned oven. Her solution? A microwave in her office, so she could re-heat her second helping (she already had a mini fridge full of Diet Coke).

The weird thing is that she's not mean or stupid or disagreeable at all; I've had plenty of positive interactions with her, and don't actually dislike her. But she just can't seem to factor how her actions are going to affect other people.
 
DelicateMageflower said:
Many moons ago, I was riding the subway during morning rush. All seats were taken. We got to a stop and a deathfat woman lumbered on and barked at someone to give her their seat. They were so surprised they actually got up and did it. I get it, who wants to be trapped in a subway car with a deathfat making a scene?

Deathfat promptly sat down with a satisfied smile and pulled out a package of donuts.
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it honestly sounds unreal lmao, too abstract
 
More about the special death fat. He used to walk to Subway for every meal because he thought it'd help him lose weight. It did. Not much, of course.

He's currently unable to indulge in his usual lolcow behaviors because he's in a nursing home. They let him harass people over the phone, sadly. At least he's not calling 911 over loss of TV channels or running out of coke.
 
Oh man I got a good one!

One of my first jobs was working for a tuxedo rental company and I was often left by myself to handle the retail store front which includes fitting and taking measurements of the customers so I can order their rental tux. This includes wedding parties and every person who was in the wedding that needed to rent a tux needed to personally visit the store so we could fit them in a generic tux and take proper measurements.
I will never ever forget this one particular deathfat. As I am standing behind the counter with one of the high school part time employee that was scheduled to work with me that day in waddled in one of the largest men I've ever seen in real life. Except he didn't just waddle straight to the counter because he couldn't. He had to stop several times within a 50 feet distance to catch his breath and lean on something. But it gets much much worse when I realize that we actually have to measure and fit this ghastly beast into a tuxedo. I am so thankful that I was not working alone that day because this was a two person job which should never be the case. I grabbed the largest size of tux pants we had, which was also adjustable on both sides of the waist so they could be worn by multiple sized people. Even with these pants extended as far as they would allow they were still too small. I believe they were size 50 or so. The guy smelled absolutely disgusting and his legs were just covered in dry flskey skin. I couldn't do it. I made my employee get on his knees and take the measurements and assist that man with his pants. I distinctly remember my coworker dry heaving after the guy left because of the left over dry skin that remained inside the try on pants and on the floor in the dressing room. It was disgusting. I was just mortified when I looked inside the pants and saw the volume of dead flskey skin he left behind. Also there were parts of his legs that appeared to be leaking clear fluid and were wrapped in white bandages. Ugh.
 
Something I remember, speaking of the scooters:

I mentioned the fat friend of the neighbor earlier, she came into the grocery store I worked for at the time.
She managed to get on one of the scooters, but the thing wouldn't move. One of the produce guys tried it out to see what the problem was, but it ran fine for him.
She was so heavy she exceeded the weight limit for the cart and it wouldn't budge. The weight limit for those carts was 450 pounds.
 
I was once inside a McDonalds on my lunch break and watched some ham planet try to get free fries by complaining that his were cold. Never mind the fact that he had eaten almost all of them. The employee behind the counter called over the McManager who told him that he could only replace the fries he had left. This guy went absolutely ballistic, yelling and cursing at everyone in sight. It was probably the best public chimp out I've ever witnessed. He eventually waddled back to his table and finished eating before making a loud, dramatic exit.
 
Agripepsi said:
In 2018 I took a marvelous river cruise on the Danube to celebrate the end of my time in the Military. It lasted about three weeks and started in Amsterdam, wound through Germany, spent two days in Vienna, and terminated in Budapest which is an amazing city to visit in the early Summer. From Budapest I went south, took a cheesy tour of Transylvania, spent a day in Bucharest (do not recommend), and decided to end my European adventure with a final detour to Odessa. You see, I am a bit of a film buff and have always been taken by Sergei Eisenstein's Battleship Potemkin. The film's famous scene of the "massacre on the steps" is iconic and worth watching if you're unfamiliar.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=1sEPFd-1Dm8
I found an acceptable hotel in Moldavanka with a view of the Black Sea and within walking distance from Shevchenka park, and the world-famous staircase. I spent the first day exploring and seeing the sights. It went well and on the second day I decided to do some shopping. There were street food vendors on one side of the hotel where I decided to grab breakfast. The moment I exited the hotel I was overwhelmed by the pungent, ripe stench of bad onions. It seemed to hang in the air like a noxious cloud and overwhelmed the normal smell of freshly baked pyrizhky buns and the sweet, tangy aroma of stewing borscht I'd previously encountered on the street. The fumes seemed to grow worse the closer I drew to the corner of the hotel and I began to hear the voice of what seemed to be a very agitated cherubim, similar to the tones you'd hear in a youth boy choir. It struck me because the voice was speaking English in a southern American accent, and while English itself is relatively uncommon in Odessa, when you do hear it it usually has a decidedly north eastern accent from visiting American jews, often from Brighton Beach.

"RANCH, I WANT RANCH!" the voice shrieked with several puberty crackles throughout as I turned the corner. I was blinded at first as I was washed in what I thought must be beams from some fluorescent flood light. My pupils slowly adjusted and my vision began to focus. I realized that there was no floodlight and instead I found myself staring at the largest mass of human flesh I've ever encountered. It was a pale white like the moon and seemed to reflect every lumen of sunshine out from it like a sheeny mirror. The longer I stared the more that I could see that the tissue was almost transparent as I could make out blood vessels, veins, and arteries under the surface, it was as if it was some kind of white tinted gelatin. It was, here and there, covered by ill fitting, and soiled clothing. Blue shorts the size of a six person tent and a stained red shirt that could pass for a sail on a racing yacht.

"YOU'RE MAKING ME SO ANGY!" the voice continued. I shifted my gaze to the megafauna's face and was entranced by its hypnotizing, Medusa like, visage. It began with patchy, wiry, hair on the neck and jaw, and surrounding its maw, spattered here and there like feces speckles on the back of a toilet wall after a bout of explosive diarrhea. Despite being terrified I could not avert my eyes from his, they were eerily childlike and despite being furious he somehow looked happy...pleasantly content if you will. There he stood like some kind of descended archangel of obesity, bathed in his own light, and at the zenith of his righteous anger, prepared to enact his wrath on this poor slav. His cheery countenance, contrasted with his enraged behavior, was disconcerting to say the least. It was like some kind of uncanny valley. The hair on his head was not just greasy, that shit was greezy which is a whole nother level of grease. It stuck up in spots and was obviously cut at home, by the beast himself, with what I imagined must be a set industrial animal shears.

It began to shake its fists slowly, at first, and then rapidly. "FEE-FI-FO-FUM" it bellowed, "YOU SLAV NIGGERS ARE SO DUMB!". It raised its right hoof and stamped the ground. Window panes in nearby businesses shattered and electricity lines sparked on their poles. In the far off distance I could hear a baby begin to cry and women screaming. I stumbled to maintain my footing as it raised its left leg and slammed it in to the ground with more force than before. The asphalt beneath him cracked and the sky was filled with flocks of birds fleeing the city. The air was filled with an orchestra of car alarms and the slow building whine of air raid sirens.

The creature grunted, expelling air forcefully from its lungs. The wind it generated shook leaves from trees and cleared the street of litter. The vendors knelt and uttered quiet prayers in their queer orthodox manner and I myself prayed a silent Hail Mary. The monster lifted its arms slowly together at once as if preparing to say the Lord's Prayer and began its own incantation; "JERSH-YE!" his elevated palms now in line with his hips, "HA-ME" his hands now at shoulder level, "HAAAAAAAAAAA!" as his palms met high above his head with a gargantuan thunder clap.

Time seemed to stop. His eyes glowed blue, then yellow, and then red. His face contorted in to a shit-eating grin as baked goods, napkins, styrofoam to-go trays, and leaves began to rise around him, floating in the air and slowly circling him. Sweat poured off the Lovecraftian monster like water off a snow covered roof on a warm Spring day. With each passing second more and more small items were drawn toward him and began their orbit which too became faster and faster. As his power grew I too started to feel its pull and fought with every muscle to resist it. I eventually broke free and ran for my life. It felt like I was pulling a 200lb sled behind me and was the most exhausting physical exercise I've ever endured. I saw patio furniture and debris of all kind fly through the air toward the singularity forming downtown. The worst I witnessed were the frail old people, skinny women, and children, sliding across the streets on their bellies and backs toward the monster as I made my arduous trek to safety. They screamed, God I will never forget their screams, but I could not help them. I eventually acquired a bicycle that through some luck had become stuck on a building at an odd angle and made a faster progress out of the city. When I finally reached Odessa's city limits the force began to fade and with that I collapsed.

I was discovered by a Ukrainian Army convoy that was hell bent on entering the city. I could barely muster a syllable as the stern, somber looking Soldiers rifled through my pockets. They found my American passport and threw me in a waiting ambulance. Their commander came to me right before the paramedics shut the doors. His thick slavic accent was barely intelligible. "First Chernobyl, then Crimea, now this" he said, "You must go back to America and tell them. Tell them of Ukraine". We stared at one another for a brief moment and he must have known that I understood, though I couldn't form a word. "Me", he broke the stare and took a violent swig of vodka from a beaten flask he produced from beneath his heavy erverrcoat, "I must fight" he turned and left the ambulance. The doors slammed together behind him and I lost consciousness again.

I never knew his name and I have never been able to fully understand what happened on that early summer morning in Odessa. Perhaps I was never meant to. All I can do is remember.

Remember and tell you.
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You need to come the Chantal thread.
 
I work at a grocery store so these people are a daily encounter. Generally the fat fucks who use a mobility scooter are also arrogant and self-important so you quickly learn to avoid them like the wandering trolls they are. This older slob of a woman who always nabs one of them despite not needing it, and always asks for help loading her cart and going out to her car no matter how busy the store is. Older diabetes-stricken men with legs like burst rolls of Pillsbury biscuits. Literal blobs on wheels buying enough sweets and soda to last the average family a month several times a week. Oddly the fattest guy I've ever seen is this gargantuan Hispanic dude who comes in pretty regularly and never uses a mobility scooter. Always in dark shorts and a t-shirt and always doing exercises in place when he's not trundling waddling around.

Every overweight coworker I've had offered some kind of attitude or just wouldn't bother doing things they were supposed to - all except for one really nice dude who left a while back. All around great guy, really positive attitude, and didn't mind joking about his weight. Miss you, Greg.
 
Cannot believe I forgot this story. I did not witness it, but my best friend did and other mutual friends have also talked about it.

A 500ish pound guy known to my friends and me went to interview where my best friend works (luckily, it’s the county 911 call center). At some point, the dude had to use the toilet.

I did not know this was a possibility, but he tore that sucker right out of the wall. Some others heard the racket and found the guy lying on the floor in a pile of crap and a puddle of piss with his pants around his ankles. He was hurt and the paramedics carried him into the ambulance and brought him to the hospital.

And yes...... he actually did get the job.
 
deputydogshit2.0 said:
Cannot believe I forgot this story. I did not witness it, but my best friend did and other mutual friends have also talked about it.

A 500ish pound guy known to my friends and me went to interview where my best friend works (luckily, it’s the county 911 call center). At some point, the dude had to use the toilet.

I did not know this was a possibility, but he tore that sucker right out of the wall. Some others heard the racket and found the guy lying on the floor in a pile of crap and a puddle of piss with his pants around his ankles. He was hurt and the paramedics carried him into the ambulance and brought him to the hospital.

And yes...... he actually did get the job.
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They make special supports just to keep that from happening:
fat.jpg
 
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When I worked at a large supermarket chain as a teenager, there was this massive fat faggot who came in to try to steal shit once a week on his scooter. 600 lbs easy, his ham stuck out 2 feet on either side of him, he basically had a giant ass. Anyways, he got caught stealing chicken tenders (I'm not joking) by the asset protection dude a few times, they never banned him probably since our store was the only store that could fit his lardass in for a couple miles (small town wisconsin)
Oh yeah and he had daughters in their 20s who were super fat too. 400 lbs each at 5'4... He had a young daughter too, age ten probably but already 200 lbs, she would ride on his lap on the scooter so he would go painfully slow and clog the aisles.
 
I’ve of course run across many fatties on a scooty puff in the grocery store. Sometimes I feel sorry for them, but then they start loading their cart with Mountain Dew, and I don’t anymore.

The absolute worst specimen was my former boss. She had to be almost 400 pounds. This is the type of gal that you hear walking up behind you before you see them. And she was an absolute bitch. I mean Chantal-level bitch. Everyone in my department hated her.

She was jealous of those of us who were normal weight and would be sure to make little quips. For instance, she would “joke” about me always eating salad for lunch. To be fair, we worked in a hospital and they had a great cafeteria with an amazing salad bar.

One time me and my co-worker were talking when the bitch walked past us. Now my co-worker had a medical issue and had lost weight because of it. My boss looks at her and says “You’ve lost too much weight...like a lot of weight” with a disgusted look on her face. We just stood there stunned. I have never wanted to slap someone so much in my life.

I eventually found another job, because I was done with the constant bullshit. She actually set up a system where you get an “occurrence” on your record if you called in sick, even with a doctor’s excuse. It was so bad that a friend of mine was in the ER all night with her sick son, couldn’t come in to work the next day, and this bitch still gave her an occurrence.

I’ve had my share of bosses over the years, but most of them are forgettable. This one I will not forget.
 
I work with these kinds of people, so it is an everyday thing, I've never really had some bizarre deathfat encounter out in the wild. However, a personal encounter/powerlevel/whatever you want to call it was that my childhood friend was severely overweight her whole life( reached deathfat by her HS years) and died because of complications from it at the age of 23. (:_(
 
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