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

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Once upon a time, I worked at a hotel. We had a massive deathfat walk in with his fatty girlfriend. The guy was about 6 ft tall and had to be at least 600 lbs heavy. The girl wasn't as bad as the guy, but she was still a smelly fatty fatty boom boom. To this day I have no idea how that guy managed to walk around on his own two feet unaided. No canes, no wheelchairs, no scooters, no nothin'. Anyway, they wanted to know if we had bath tubs, or just plain showers. I told him that we indeed did have bathtubs.

Once they were satisfied with our bathtub situation, I got them in a room. They originally wanted the jacuzzi room, but they refused to pay the price, which was roughly 25-35 dollars more than what they ended up choosing anyway. They were pushy and rude, trying to get me to lower the prices, which I didn't do. They also came back to the desk immediately after going to their room because they didn't like it. I walked them thru 4 more rooms until they found one they liked.

Fast forward to 3 hours later and we had the fire department, ambulance, and police pull up asking for the fatties room. Despite them calling 911, they didn't b unlock and open the room door for the responders. I guess they couldn't hear the banging. So we override the door lock and go in ourselves. Turns out the big guy got stuck in the tub trying to take a bath. He apparently lifted up as much of his his fat folds as he could, kinda like a woman lifting the bottom of her dress to keep it from getting wet from a puddle, and wedged himself in. It took them an hour to cut him out, all the while complaining and belly-aching.

It was clear the paramedics and firemen had had enough of him and his constant complaining about handicap accessibility and unrealistic body standards, so they went as quick as they could without killing the guy. The process of cutting him out left him with a few extra bruises and cuts, for which he obviously threatened to sue. Meanwhile, the plus size girlfriend was filming every second of this on her busted up iPhone as "evidence".

Once free, they took big boy to the hospital, while the girlfriend proceeded to check out of the room early. She wanted a refund for their stay and I wasn't giving it to them. She got loud, mean, and vulgar but I wouldn't budge. I've already laughed down a guy trying to rob the hotel cash drawer on my shift using a knife, so a couple of filthy overweight assholes weren't going to pull a fat one on me. So she put her phone on speaker and called Mr Deathfat who was already in the ER by then. He then tried his best to extort a free night and then some out of me for his trouble. He got no further than Ms Piggy did. They kept demanding a manager disk with them, and I kept telling them I was the manager on duty, which was true.

At that particular job, whoever works the desk has full managerial authority for customer relations. The very very VERY last thing you ever want to do is to have to bother the manager with this kind of trivial bullshit. I knew better than to call my manager and put her on the phone to get yelled at by these disgusting subhuman porcine mutants. So I told them this as they asked why I wouldn't call my boss. She would say the same thing and send them packing. At this point, I could hear the guy on the other end of the phone being told that he can't be on the phone while they do stuff, which he clearly didn't like. He hung up in the middle of belittling a nurse leaving me with the girlfriend. She refused to leave without a refund and further compensation, and she would tell everyone who comes in that we run a dangerous deathtrap of a hotel. I had had enough of this already hours ago when they had checked in, so I wasn't having any of this. I waved over one of the remaining police who was conveniently sitting in the parking lot near my desk window. I told him that I enter gone and has her trespassed on the spot. It was a final fuck you to the assholes who never ended up paying for the tub they ruined.

They ended up trying to sue us, but they wound up everything dismissed from underneath them for some reason or another. We could have sued for the bathroom repair, but didn't. The owners used this whole incident as an excuse to tear everything out and remodel.
 
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I come today bearing another gift, a short yet extremely funny memory that made its way to the surface today. It's a story once again about my father, who some of you know is a death fatty. I shared this story earlier with another farmer and figured someone else out there would appreciate the comedy of the situation.

Alright, a little scenery setting...my father used to live in a rural town, where he regularly ordered from the local restaurants due to his inability to cook. We're talking a roulette of about 4-5 restaurants, some of which he would order from multiple times a day, almost every single day of the week. There were a few occasions he would order from two restaurants at the same time, and two delivery drivers would pull up at damn near the same time. Hundreds of dollars a week flooded the local economy due to this individual and his eating habits. After a few years, he decided to move into an actual city, so he could continue to receive care from at-home doctor and nurse visits. He moves a fair distance away from his usual restaurants and a few days later a package he had ordered arrives at his old residence. He asks his niece to go pick it up, which isn't a problem. She gets to the old residence and picks up the package, but notices something else on the porch. There is a stack of takeout bags and a few 2 liters, prompting her to open the bags. There are to go boxes from a few of his usual places, with a few notes attached hoping that he is okay. :story: they had sent free shit to the house not knowing he had moved, genuinely worried why their favorite customer had just ghosted on them. I wonder if they thought he had actually ghosted and died? I think about the owners sometimes and how their establishments must have missed the money. It was a small town, and so a few of my highschool friends were delivery drivers for a very long time after graduation. I was always super fucking embarrassed to know that they knew who I was and my dad was, and that they constantly brought huge orders to him. I wonder if they thought he died too?
 
I come today bearing another gift, a short yet extremely funny memory that made its way to the surface today. It's a story once again about my father, who some of you know is a death fatty. I shared this story earlier with another farmer and figured someone else out there would appreciate the comedy of the situation.

Alright, a little scenery setting...my father used to live in a rural town, where he regularly ordered from the local restaurants due to his inability to cook. We're talking a roulette of about 4-5 restaurants, some of which he would order from multiple times a day, almost every single day of the week. There were a few occasions he would order from two restaurants at the same time, and two delivery drivers would pull up at damn near the same time. Hundreds of dollars a week flooded the local economy due to this individual and his eating habits. After a few years, he decided to move into an actual city, so he could continue to receive care from at-home doctor and nurse visits. He moves a fair distance away from his usual restaurants and a few days later a package he had ordered arrives at his old residence. He asks his niece to go pick it up, which isn't a problem. She gets to the old residence and picks up the package, but notices something else on the porch. There is a stack of takeout bags and a few 2 liters, prompting her to open the bags. There are to go boxes from a few of his usual places, with a few notes attached hoping that he is okay. :story: they had sent free shit to the house not knowing he had moved, genuinely worried why their favorite customer had just ghosted on them. I wonder if they thought he had actually ghosted and died? I think about the owners sometimes and how their establishments must have missed the money. It was a small town, and so a few of my highschool friends were delivery drivers for a very long time after graduation. I was always super fucking embarrassed to know that they knew who I was and my dad was, and that they constantly brought huge orders to him. I wonder if they thought he died too?
I know it sounds embarrassing, but that's also sweet that the restaurants sent him food and asked if he was okay. That's very kind of them.
 
The only people I feel truly sorry for are the kids; they didn't sign up for this but they'll have to look after their fatass parents until early adulthood at least when their parents finally die... If they die.
 
I started a boxing group class a few weeks ago, and last...Friday I believe we had a dude come in. He was about my height, but if you cloned me and I stood back to back with myself, I'd be able to just barely hide his belly from a profile angle. Now, I'm not exactly a featherweight (try super heavyweight) so I was a little surprised since the class can get pretty intense, especially considering he had his own gloves (no wraps, though). To his credit, he made it through though he wasn't sweating much and he always had to sit down in between "rounds" even after the warm-up. I didn't really pay much attention during the workout (I was focused on what I was doing) but when he was throwing some shots before and after class they were slow and pretty soft.
 
To be fair, good on him for at least trying to get moving. It must be hella intimidating being deathfat and walking into a group exercise setting for the first time.

Hope it gives him the confidence to turn his whole lifestyle around as it's pretty much a cert that he eats way too much. They say you can't outrun a bad diet, but I think sometimes it can give you the motivation to enjoy making changes.
 
To be fair, good on him for at least trying to get moving. It must be hella intimidating being deathfat and walking into a group exercise setting for the first time.

Hope it gives him the confidence to turn his whole lifestyle around as it's pretty much a cert that he eats way too much. They say you can't outrun a bad diet, but I think sometimes it can give you the motivation to enjoy making changes.
I'm not sure it was his first ever boxing class, actually. He seemed to know what he was doing and what few shots I saw him throw seemed pretty clean. Also the coach recognized him, so there's that. But yeah, he's doing some work at least so I'm not faulting the guy. Haven't seem him since but maybe he usually trains at another gym.

Honestly, I could be classed as a deathfat myself, I just have lucky fat distribution, really wide shoulders, and put on muscle easily so I look less fat than I actually am. Scales don't lie, though.
 
I can't speak for them, but IBS makes you diarrhea constantly and immediately. You poop wherever as long as it's not in your pants.
it can also go the otherway, costipation that can last for days, especially when eaten the wrong foods. can make it a miserable experience at times,

and dont forget leaking fecal matter bc ur anus decided it had enough of being constipated so it decided to let loose a bit of poop along side the whole ass turd
 
I’m a Samoan guy and if there’s anything that you should know about us is that we’re fat as fuck. I’m honestly chubby but some of my family members are fucking HUGE. And the thing is is that they pride themselves on being massive. In Hawaii a lot of shit can’t be grown so most of our fruits and veggies are imported, so they’re super expensive. The meat and canned food like mutton flaps are pure fat so it’s very very easy to balloon up. My uncle is the worst, He’s 5 10” and about 475 lbs I’m guessing. I can’t be in the same room with him because he just smells like rotting shit. Which sucks because other than that I love him.
 
I’m a Samoan guy and if there’s anything that you should know about us is that we’re fat as fuck. I’m honestly chubby but some of my family members are fucking HUGE. And the thing is is that they pride themselves on being massive. In Hawaii a lot of shit can’t be grown so most of our fruits and veggies are imported, so they’re super expensive. The meat and canned food like mutton flaps are pure fat so it’s very very easy to balloon up. My uncle is the worst, He’s 5 10” and about 475 lbs I’m guessing. I can’t be in the same room with him because he just smells like rotting shit. Which sucks because other than that I love him.
Wasn't it a cultural thing in Samoa that all the Samoan QT3.14s went after the fatties since they could afford to eat so much? Because your relative's pride in their extreme size could be a holdover from that.

Of course, your story explained why the Samoans that don't get fat are ripped as hell. All that protein...
 
Wasn't it a cultural thing in Samoa that all the Samoan QT3.14s went after the fatties since they could afford to eat so much? Because your relative's pride in their extreme size could be a holdover from that.

Of course, your story explained why the Samoans that don't get fat are ripped as hell. All that protein...
Yeah food and eating with family is a huge part of our culture. At every event there’s a massive feast, the more food you have the better off you are. Refusing food is like refusing the hard work of family pretty much, an insult to the ‘aiga (Samoan for “man of the house”, pretty much a dude who’s in charge of the whole extended family.) But also yeah we’re swole as hell, we love football and wrestling. Our soccer team sucks ass though.
 
I work at a hotel and had the joy of dealing with a woman who was probably in her 40s and in the 350 range. She came to the front desk and asked for a walk-in reservation, no problem.
then she asked for a handicapped room, and naturally, I asked, "What kind of room do you need to accommodate? I have rooms for the deaf and rooms with roll-in showers and sitting showers."

"I don't care, I just like the handicapped rooms because the toilets are always bigger, and the bathrooms are always bigger, too."
Luckily, this wasn't my first rodeo, and promptly told her-
"those rooms are for people with actual ailments and disabilities, I'm not giving you a handicapped room just because you want a bigger bathroom."
Cue the trademark angry hog snort of disbelief, and her promptly leaving.

I got another one, I had a very rural couple who were probably in their 70's staying at the hotel because the wife (who was a little chunky, but no means a death fat...like her husband. I want to say maybe 375 pounds?) needed to see a specialist in the city.
They walked up to the front desk that morning to check out early, and the husband greeted me, tipped his hat...
"howdy miss."
"good morning, sir." then he put his elbow on the counter and got waaay too casual before loudly announcing:
"I got the nerves last night and I SHAT the bed. musta been something I ate, I reckon."
that motherfucker sounded PROUD, he was SMIRKING.

I had just started this job, and I was shocked. How in the hell was I supposed to deal with this? this shit (heh) wasn't in my training.
EVERYONE in the breakfast area looked over and had different levels of disgust on their faces. One woman looked like she had almost thrown up.
before I could say anything,
"And it's ALL over the sheets. good luck gettin it out."
his wife looked like she was on the verge of tears. and with that, he slowly cowboy-Esque waddled away.
 
Massive powelevel here but I spent the latter half of my childhood and teen years in foster care and the foster mother was a deathfat. We lived in a two-story house with a flight of stairs and she always struggled to go up and down those stairs, huffing and puffing as if she had run a marathon because her bedroom happened to be on the second floor.
I'd wager she was easily 200kgs.

Was she a nice person? God, no. A lot of people pitied her because of her massive weight and she let that go to her head - while also doing everything in her power to not do anything resembling weight loss. She was quite abusive at times and contributed to several foster kids living there at the time developing some pretty severe trauma due to the treatment.

I lived with her and her normal-sized husband for ten years and I recall several instances where she would pour half a tub of mayo on bananas, dip bread in oil and eat it, slather her bread and cakes with butter and drink alcohol every day.

Not surprisingly she got the beetus and had to stab herself daily with insulin. Then she got cancer and lost a good chunk of the weight. She's still overweight though, with a horrid body shape. Imagine an apple with legs.
 
i finally said fuck it and made an account for this thread so apologies if any of the formatting is retarted.

my mother (who bless her heart grew up as a 90lb girl working on the family pig farm) and i like to play a little game where we search the given area we’re in for the fattest person in the store, and whoever finds them ‘wins’. This is obviously exponentially more fruitful in large retail areas like a classic Walmart, but this story was in probably the best place to go looking for deathfats who probably only leave their house a few times a year, the summer County Fair.

We had spent 30 minutes searching and were having little luck, the 200-300 pounders were a dime a dozen but i was really looking to win big and not even the fried twinkies stand had the magnitude I was looking for. I had finally given up and was walking leisurely through the indoor crafts section while my mom haggled for mlm candle products when i heard the sound of heavy breathing and mechanical whirring behind me. I turned around to see no joke the fattest person I had ever seen, a man who seemed to be in his mid-30s to early 40s, short brown hair, easily 700 elbees. The whirring sound I was hearing was the pained whinings of his electric wheelchair, barely breaking the speed of a slow stroll under his massive weight.
What I remembered most is the absolutely pained expression on his face when I realized that I was blocking his path, despite the distance between the stalls being about 6 feet wide. We didn’t exchange any words but I could just see how miserable he was and that he realized what a burden he was on others, despite obviously not doing anything to change it.
I ended up calling the game off after that and it hasn’t been as much fun since.
 
I may have posted this story here, but I'm not going to go back and look. Anyway, several years ago, one of my Facebook friends, a woman I worked with when I lived in another city, posted pictures of the Rainbow Girls group her then-teenage daughters had joined. (If you don't know, Rainbow Girls is a Masonic organization for adolescent girls and young women.) ALL of the dozen or so girls qualified as morbidly obese, and her daughters, who were probably around 100 pounds overweight, were the least overweight of them all. Several of them were north of 400 pounds, I'm sure.

It was one of the saddest collection of pictures I've ever seen.
 
I used to work in healthcare, one place was a kind of transition home for alcoholics and exceptional individuals. One guy was morbidly obese and was funded by his mom, who was clearly intimidated by him. He sank entire days into playing some Marvel or DC MMORPG, this guy was at the top of the games ranking system. The smell of his room was ungodly.

I remember one time he got a taxi into the city and spent all of his money on Pokemon cards to sell later. Only without any money he needed to beg his mom to transfer him more to get another taxi and some pizza. Another time some other staff saw a woman go into his room on CCTV, who we guessed was a hooker. Felt pretty damn bad for her.
 
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