A few short years ago, I sat on an airplane and waited. I waited with baited breath to see if the obese man waddling up the aisle was going to be sat next to me. I didn’t want the blimp sat next to me. Who would? I didn’t want to be squished. I didn’t want to smell the BO.This guy was so fat that I’m sure that when he weighed himself, the scales read “to be continued…”.
The flight marked the end of a long family vacation in Florida. 14 nights of theme parks and beaches. I’m sure it was the most exercise I’d had all year. Not that I needed it. Unlike today, back then I could turn invisible with a profile view! I could have been used as a toothpick for his Fatness. When I was 22, I wore kid’s clothes that fit like a glove. I didn't need a belt 'til I turned 30.
Piggy's belt could have been used to measure the equator!
I let out a sigh of relief when the Fat Bastard took a seat two rows down. He was safely on the other side of the plane. It’d throw the balance off for sure, but at least I wasn’t going to get squished!
After a few minutes it was clear that Blimp was having parking troubles. His incredibly fat ass wasn’t going to fit. His face turned red. The lady in the seat next to him grimaced and pretended that it wasn’t happening. Her eyes were fixed on the tarmac. I smiled with empathy for the lady. Who doesn't hate Fat Bastards?
Five minutes later the armrests were removed. Chubs layers of fat slid into his seat with an audible thud and creak. The lady sat next to him surely questioned if he guy was really fat or just 5 feet too short!
The entertainment continued as when the Stewardess asked his Fatness to buckle his seat belt. He couldn’t. She stewardess likely knew this and recognized an opportunity. After all, who doesn't want to make Fatties feel like the pile of shit that they are?
Fully extended, the seat belt barely covered half of Mount Belly. Pudge's plump face turned red as he apologized profusely. The stewardess grunted something about an extension and left him hanging.
By this time, everybody in the cabin was having a good hard stare. Those that were initially sympathetic were now just pissed. The comedians like me had shelved comedy for the time being. This Fat Fuck was delaying our flight!
Moments of hard stares passed before the stewardess returned with a belt extender.
“Here’s your belt extender, Sir”, she announced loudly.
Unfortunately for Lardo, it still didn’t fit. The stewardess huffed impatiently, tapped her feet, and looked away. All eyes were directed to Lard Ass.
This Stuffed Pig was so fat that he could have had his own zip code!
Next Fatman started to sniffle and gently sob. The stewardess immediately reached over and released some more belt. Everybody else, including the ice queen in the seat next to his, threw a sympathetic look his way.
This was obviously too much for a guy who wanted to be swallowed up by the world. He bowed his head and proceeded to cry. Big blubbery sobs drenched the cabin. Tears fell like grains of sand in the desert.
I spent the remainder of the flight glued to the window, pretending not to cry.
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8 comments:
and yes, that is Brad Pitt! I found this doctored pic on a fat celebs website. One where they take pictures of famous celebs and make them fat.
I also borrowed a lot of fat jokes from various sources for this post.
Sob stories about fat people piss me off. Really, truly do. I'm no spring flower, and my family is thick, but we're a hearty, healthy family of thickness. Doctors aren't worried about our size.
Now, don't get me wrong: I've been fat. I don't hate the fatness. I just don't feel sorry for them.
So when I say I feel for your story, I mean it.
Thanks for the feedback, Rassles... I'm not sure whether my post pissed you off or not. Regardless, thanks for taking the time to leave some feedback.
The intention of the post was to show how conflicted we can all be in regard to discrimination. Fat people bother me. I don't know why. But that day in the plane... and I know this is gonna sound as cheesy as a lump o cheddar... i think that I discovered that wasn't the nice person that I thought I was.
The distasteful fat jokes and stuff were there to lead people down the same path as me - from disdain to hypocrisy to compassion. Not quite sure that it worked out.
Oh, it worked.
What I meant was: I don't feel sorry for fat people.
But I empathized with that man. It was a good post.
My mother is morbidly obese. So was my sister, until she had gastric bypass. Here's the thing that I have learned. No matter what you see on the surface, when someone is eating themselves, quite literally, to death, somewhere, from a very deep place inside, there is a person who feels very, very badly about themselves. My mother is so large that she cannot even walk across a parking lot. Whenever she wants to socialize, she calls to ask if I want to meet her at the all you can eat Chinese buffet. I had to finally begin saying no. The stuff was no good for me, and it definately was no good for her. Sadly, she got very angry about my judgementalism. It never was about her weight. It was about her health. SHe doesn't see it, and it makes me very sad. At this point, we have not even spoken, by phone, since last November. There are other reasons, of course, but telling her that I couldn't meet her at the all you can eat Chinese buffet got the ball rolling.
Debby, that's so sad... My heart goes out to you. I'd be concerned that my lack of contact had caused her to eat more... coz that's probably what I'd do if I felt that a loved one had turned their back on me. I have the bottle, others have food - same difference. But on the other hand, is supporting destructive behaviors worse? Tricky.
No, no. I never 'turned my back' on my mom. I just told her that I did not want to go to the all you can eat chinese buffet. She got very angry. She made the accusations. It was hard to know what to do. My mom has always been very critical of her two oldest children. The two youngest children can do no wrong. I love my mom, but after awhile, you simply have a choice to make. I come from a very violent family, a very critical family. In the end, you are responsible for saving yourself. Understand that for most of my 52 years, I've been trying to sort things out with my mom. She is probably bipolar.
i thought the reason why you were crying was because the girl was 14 and her parents were these, as opposed to you having someone to hit on.
Now I get it,and you don't sound like a douchebag anymore
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