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

[Snusmumriken]

Last week, I attended a small focus group about the dining options on our campus. It advertised a $20 gift card to be used at any of the dining locations for participants, as well as free snacks for the duration, so I thought, free food, why not.

You could’ve told me it was an Impractical Jokers sketch and I would’ve believed you. Every single attendee, including the focus group leader, was morbidly obese, the skinniest being maybe 300lbs. To be completely fair, two of them were absolutely lovely and very helpful in their feedback, and the leader was a huge (sorry) sweetheart as well. But the rest, my god, you’d think the buffet cafeteria single-handedly murdered their infant children. You know how Buzzfeed always gets the most snarky, covertly racist dickheads for their “Americans try _____ food” videos? That was them, except they were indistinguishable from Jabba the Hut, or each other for that matter—if you’ve never been in a room with all fat people, you’ll notice that it puffs up over their features until they all look like the same 500lb toddler.

The chief complaint was that the most expensive meal plan only covered 19 meals a week, meaning for at least two meals, you would be on your own. They wanted to be able to eat at the buffet three meals a day, every single day, despite complaining that there weren’t enough options (there most certainly were) and that the food was cold/soggy. Mind you, this was a focus group for commuters; meal plans are typically used by undergrads living on campus, without access to a decent kitchen or oftentimes transportation. They also demanded that said buffet stay open until midnight, because “some people work late.”

On top of that, they insisted above all else that we need ANOTHER Starbucks, despite us having a relatively small campus and with four different coffee locations already. You want to know their reasoning? The lines at Starbucks are too long, and, “We need more healthy food on campus.”

In the end, it was worth it. The brownies and lemonade were pretty good (weird combo tho), so I guess I can live with the fact that America is getting one waddle closer to the pig people in Spirited Away every day.

 

[Adrenochrome Dreams]

Damn, did something happen to her? This sounds like the kind of response someone might have to being sexually abused sadly.

No sexual abuse as far as I know. Basically what happened is she moved out of her mother's home and into her own home because she inherited some substantial money and was not getting along with her mother. However, she is literally not capable of caring for herself due to (genuine) autism and ADHD, but is now too rich to be entitled to funded support workers. So she is not coping at all and developed binge eating disorder. When she can't cope with something, as in everyday life, which is every single day, she gorges to distract herself from the pressure and the misery.

On top of this she has the typical fatty lack of perspective on what is normal portion size and a balanced diet. Her mother and sister are slim and I suspect she was previously accidentally kept under control by the convenience of eating whatever her family ate.

The sensory thing is a lie and an excuse, she used to be clean and she also used to like swimming. She just can't cope with the organisation required to keep her bathroom clean and usable, and to mentally get herself together to have a bath or shower. It's more socially acceptable these days to claim sensory issues than it is to admit you mentally can't cope with simple tasks. If there is any truth to the "sensory" thing it will be the physical difficulty of being a planet and trying to get into a bathtub.

 

[Aunt Carol]

Ten minutes later, I hauled myself to my feet and staggered back to work. On my way out of the Hungry Jack's, I saw the woman sitting on her parked scooty puff and eating. It was, as I said, blistering hot so I don't know why she was eating in the car park and not inside. I also saw the scooty puff from the back; on the inside of the machine and dangling from the handlebars were dozens of toys, dozens, clipped to chains and each other. They weren't Beanie Babies either; they were toddler and baby toys, the type you clip to the sides of a bassinet.

Maybe the stuffed animals were acting like boat bumpers, for parallel parking her scooter.

 

[Cheesegirl78]

@JacindaArdenIRL Hmmmm.... it has been quite a while but I don't think there was anything to shocking. Some of the more expected stuff of a slackjawed fats. A LOT of ice cream bars, a ton of TP, pre-made meals. I don't ever remember them buying any ingredients to cook with. No vegetables or fruit. But if I'm remembering correctly the grandma always bought adult diapers and they also always got a good amount of buttermilk.

The grandson was definitely slow whenever you saw his face you could tell that there wasn't a lot behind those eyes. Honestly just his slow progression to the level of fatness he achieved over that period of time was a wonder to behold. I remember thinking every time I saw them walk into the store "is today gonna be the day he gets on the scooter?"

I've worked in grocery stores, and at one, we had several of the scootypuffs for people to use.
Now this was almost 40 years ago, and you didn't see quite so many fatties back then. Mostly people who recently had surgery, or broken limbs.

One day, a behemoth woman waddled in, gets on the scootypuff, and it doesn't move. She starts bellowing at the nearest courtesy clerk that the cart wasn't working and for someone to fix it.
Clerk gets on the scootypuff, and it runs fine for him. The woman was so heavy the scootypuff couldn't haul her, the weight limit on them was 350 pounds. She begins yelling that the store needed new ones.
Sure, lady. Those damn carts were almost $3000.

When I did my second stint in a grocery store, 99% of the fatties were on food stamps, and they bought cases of soda, ice cream, Popsicles, multiple packs of candy, chips, and junk food.

 

[Dumcumpster]

I've worked in grocery stores, and at one, we had several of the scootypuffs for people to use.
Now this was almost 40 years ago, and you didn't see quite so many fatties back then. Mostly people who recently had surgery, or broken limbs.

One day, a behemoth woman waddled in, gets on the scootypuff, and it doesn't move. She starts bellowing at the nearest courtesy clerk that the cart wasn't working and for someone to fix it.
Clerk gets on the scootypuff, and it runs fine for him. The woman was so heavy the scootypuff couldn't haul her, the weight limit on them was 350 pounds. She begins yelling that the store needed new ones.
Sure, lady. Those damn carts were almost $3000.

When I did my second stint in a grocery store, 99% of the fatties were on food stamps, and they bought cases of soda, ice cream, Popsicles, multiple packs of candy, chips, and junk food.

Actually the funniest shit I've ever heard.

 

[Kled]

Whenever grandmother wants me to go to Walmart i usually go with her to get cheap toiletries or food. Today we went to the one where "the Mexicans go to" (in her words) and my fucking god if i see another short beachball Hispanic woman or a fat fuck white trash. Im one to talk when it comes to my food choices but sometimes i use these people as an excuse to go "maybe some other time..." when i want to snack on something unhealthy. One girl had a knee brace with her legs looking like shotgun pellet damage. As much as i hate Walmart i like to people watch there. Pool floaty upper arms and hail damage legs everywhere.

 

[VasonJoorhees]

I got likes from deathfats all the time when I used that Facebook Dating bullshit, to the point that I put "not a chubby chaser" in my bio and got banned lol. The app just shows people who like you unlike most apps, and a lot of them were disgusting looking and mega overweight.

Also, in Elementary school my classmate Ethan's mom was one of those people who watch the kids at recess and lunch and shit, no idea what the position is called. She was really nice but god damn was she fat as fuck, at least 400. Highlight of that year was when we were all at lunch and she came up from behind and kissed my classmate Max on the cheek, thinking it was Ethan (they had the same hair and looked similar from behind). We all laughed our asses off at Max and the mom apologized and looked really embarrassed. She'd sit at a lunch table and take up like like half of the seats.

 

[toilet_rainbow]

I've worked in grocery stores, and at one, we had several of the scootypuffs for people to use.
Now this was almost 40 years ago, and you didn't see quite so many fatties back then. Mostly people who recently had surgery, or broken limbs.

One day, a behemoth woman waddled in, gets on the scootypuff, and it doesn't move. She starts bellowing at the nearest courtesy clerk that the cart wasn't working and for someone to fix it.
Clerk gets on the scootypuff, and it runs fine for him. The woman was so heavy the scootypuff couldn't haul her, the weight limit on them was 350 pounds. She begins yelling that the store needed new ones.
Sure, lady. Those damn carts were almost $3000.

When I did my second stint in a grocery store, 99% of the fatties were on food stamps, and they bought cases of soda, ice cream, Popsicles, multiple packs of candy, chips, and junk food.

I assure you, it's still like this. The scootypuffs go up to 400 pounds now IIRC (I dunno the exact limit; I don't use the damn things because I don't need them). Otherwise exact same thing every time.

Funnily, I have a super relevant tale to this that happened to me the other night.

Spoiler: OW MUH LEG

Super fat woman with dangerhair and dirty clothes (and breathing very heavily) came in fifteen minutes before closing. I warned her that we were closing very soon since I was about to start locking the doors when she came in. Deathfat told me no problem, just needed to make a quick run. Huge doubt, but can't deny service for just that. She walked over to a scootypuff in an area behind the cigarette counter where we put the dead ones before moving them back to the actual storage area to recharge. Got pissed that the thing wouldn't turn on.

"Those are out of power," I informed her. "We should have some that work in the front by the doors."

There were four by the front doors, by the way. So she actively walked past them, huffing and puffing and close to dying of a heart attack on the spot, for scootypuffs that weren't even going to work. Great start. She "walked," pausing every few steps to recuperate, to one of the scooters in the front and began shopping.

As we're about to close and the cashier de la nuit refused to do any go backs before ditching me early, I had to put perishables away. I was putting some frozen items back when the same deathfat, struggling scootypuff and all, drove by me.

"Girl! Where's your pet food?!"

I pointed her to the aisle. It was two aisles down with a huge ass sign above it noting that it stocked pet food.

The scooter began dying from the combined weight of her and multiple 12 packs of soda and booze as she scootypuffed, huffing and puffing, into self checkout right at closing. Again, the regular cashier had already left for the night so it was just me.

"You don't got a scanner thingy for me, do you?" she asked.

"No?" I replied. I have a zebra that I can use to scan heavy af stuff, but a standard scanner gun? No. And given her demeanor I really didn't want to interact with her more unless I had to.

She breathed hard as she started getting out of the cart to scan 12 packs of Mountain Dew and Pepsi. She began punctuating her every move with "ohhh ohh ohhh" and other assorted pained moans.

"Ohhh, oohh, *gasp* ohhh, my legs," she whined. "I never leave the house but I had to come in!"

I had to card her for the booze (43 years old and looks like 70), plus void override an item because she double scanned it. Her entire haul that was so important that she had to come in fifteen minutes before closing consisted of: six 12 packs of assorted full sugar sodas, a 6 pack of Corona, and two itty bitty cat treats. At least the kitty gets fattened up, too!

She waved her EBT card at me after I voided the duplicate cat treat scan.

"Can I manually enter the card number here? Ohhh! My legs hurt so bad!"

No. She couldn't. So I had to transfer her to the central self checkout kiosk so I could get her the fuck out of the store. Deathfat huffed and puffed and "ohhh ohhh"'d some more as she struggled to turn the scooter back on. It was at this point that I noticed that she was wearing shorts. Her trunklike legs were very splotchy (and not just because of cellulite) and very very purple. Ever seen Boogie's legs? They looked like that.

Her breathing became so labored and her face so purple that I tried to flag down the closing courtesy clerk to please stay with me just in case she crumbled to the ground or her heart exploded in front of me. Nah, he already signed out. Have a good night, Toilet, don't work too hard.

She panted laboriously before handing me the card and instructing me to cover a quarter of her bill with EBT. However, she refused to scootypuff to the actual card reader so she could finish the EBT transaction.

"I don't wanna burden ya, sweetie," she struggled to say. "Just put my PIN in for me. It's the last four digits of my EBT card."

Damn, bitch. I already knew you were stupid.

I normally would push her to do it her damn self (not to mention I really am not supposed to that in the first place), but fuck it. Closing shift is more relaxed with crap like this if it gets you out the store faster. I needed all the customers out of the store almost ten minutes ago at this point. Yep, she took that fucking long to scan shit and scootypuff to me. And she hadn't even finished paying or left the store yet.

"Okay, you still owe $40, ma'am," I told her.

She struggled to breathe as she shoved her hand into her massive cleavage. All of the bills were soaked in boob sweat and I presume yeast. They certainly smelled like it.

"Ohhh, ohhh, my leg hurts so much! Ohhhh! I need to go home! Ohhhhhh!" she cried as she forced herself off the seat just enough to hand them to me.

That's nice. I have been working for almost a week straight (and still go back in tomorrow) and my feet were aching from walking for almost eight hours straight that night. Would love to go home too, but some fat fuck that absolutely had to stock up on beetus juice at 11 PM was holding me up.

Finally had to do her final payment, a debit card, for her like I did with the EBT. I began shutting down the registers and preparing to drop my till into the safe when she cried that she needed help again. She refused to get up long enough to push the doors apart at closing, on account of "ow muh leg" and an inability to figure out how to pry doors apart when the automatic doors are off but unlocked. Guess who had to do that for her (delaying me getting out of work for even longer?) I discovered that that she had left the scootypuff in the middle of the fucking parking lot when I finally got out of work for the night. Unsurprising. Just frustrating.

edit: I can English I swear. Also fixed important typo

 

[Executive Petrel]

Maybe the stuffed animals were acting like boat bumpers, for parallel parking her scooter.
View attachment 4419620

They keep the demons of adulthood away. Like responsibilities, taking care of yourself and basic tasks.

 

[Trombonista]

I've come to the realization that I should be happy to see deathfats in my department, since I work in produce.

 

[Snusmumriken]

Well whaddaya know, another Tale From the Fatty Crypt.

I had a shift (past tense, we’ll get to that later) in a tutoring center of sorts with a morbidly obese bisexual woman. She has flirted with me multiple times (clearly not because of anything about me as a person, but because I’m the only other queer woman in our dept. who isn’t already in a relationship) despite me shutting it down multiple times on account of she’s the literal worst. She’s a radical feminazi mired in “”””academia””” who kicks it up to eleven any time I’m around in the hopes that my attraction to women automatically means I hate all men and love all women too (despite this, she has called me a racist before for saying I hate studs, claiming “stud” is the term for black lesbians. It’s not.) Big surprise, this abrasive attitude made her the bane of the entire office, including our supervisors.

So now, the actual encounter: As a side note, our supervisors are absolutely lovely and often come in to strike up conversation whenever things are slow. They and myself (note: they and myself and NO ONE ELSE) were having a conversation about Aronofsky’s The Whale, a movie about the plight of a morbidly obese man. Well, since the topic was fatness, of course she had to invite herself into it—keep this in mind—and immediately turn it onto herself.

“Like, according to doctors, I’m also morbidly obese,” she said, expecting literally anyone to correct her.

The silence was palpable. I’d even call it ticklish, since we were all trying not to laugh our asses off while she stared each one of us down, waiting for the expected “noooo honey you’re not fat uwu.”

Wasn’t coming, no way no how.

Hilariously enough, my supervisor ignored her and said he liked it, but I had argued that I had sincerely been more touched by episodes of My 600lb Life because it wasn’t shy of showing “the uglier sides of obesity.”

I guess that was a perfect poor choice of words, because she immediately got up in arms and said that the conversation was triggering her and she didn’t want to talk about it anymore, even though we were never talking to her to begin with. Interesting how easy it is to get triggered when no one agrees with your opinion.

Returning to “had,” this was honestly the last straw, not because it was the worst incident but because I’d just had too much of her by that point. I asked my supervisors if they could switch my schedule so I wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore and they did with no questions asked, thank god.

The thing about lardos like her is that the weight is an obvious indication of entitlement. She has made every argument that her weight isn’t her own fault but the fault of sthuper rare health conditions (only one in a million people have it that’s why you haven’t heard of it!!!), BED, “”trauma”” (I’m not gonna get into it but it’s not trauma), low metabolism, what fucking have you. She’s entitled to me, because single gay + single gay = relationship, regardless of my actual subzero attraction to her. She’s entitled to be the arbiter of every conversation within earshot, and yet she should never be expected to worry about her own self.

Fuck entitled fats.

 

[Sniperwoof]

My dad blew his knee out so I'm in the waiting room of an orthopedic surgeon and dear God it's like a Deathfat convention. I've never seen so many 400+ pound people in my life.

 

[Plague Flea]

My dad blew his knee out so I'm in the waiting room of an orthopedic surgeon and dear God it's like a Deathfat convention. I've never seen so many 400+ pound people in my life.

Sorry about your dad - I hope his knee gets fixed up soon. But this wouldn’t be the farms if I didn’t ask how bad do all the fatties stink?

 

[Sniperwoof]

Sorry about your dad - I hope his knee gets fixed up soon. But this wouldn’t be the farms if I didn’t ask how bad do all the fatties stink?

Mercifully I couldn't tell you. I'm getting over a sinus infection.

 

[The Gunt Whisperer]

Mercifully I couldn't tell you. I'm getting over a sinus infection.

I’m still masking to avoid Covid.

It has the added benefit of providing a layer of protection against stench.

I can stand on an elevator with a stinky deathfat, and I’m oblivious. I’m just chewing my fruity gum behind my N95 mask, and everything’s pleasant.

I’m never giving up masks. It even filters out the stench of cheap cologne trying to cover up sweaty BO on the gay fuckboys in my building.

 

[General Disarray]

Twice I've dealt with death fats and both were in the workplace. First was stupid and couldn't seem to get the hang of using the hold button, giggled a lot to cover for that. Left that job for another, where one of the ladies had special double wide chairs (that still invariably broke). One thing they had in common was husbands that were long haul truckers.

Gee, I wonder why.

 

[Pomniman]

I got likes from deathfats all the time when I used that Facebook Dating bullshit, to the point that I put "not a chubby chaser" in my bio and got banned lol. The app just shows people who like you unlike most apps, and a lot of them were disgusting looking and mega overweight.

Also, in Elementary school my classmate Ethan's mom was one of those people who watch the kids at recess and lunch and shit, no idea what the position is called. She was really nice but god damn was she fat as fuck, at least 400. Highlight of that year was when we were all at lunch and she came up from behind and kissed my classmate Max on the cheek, thinking it was Ethan (they had the same hair and looked similar from behind). We all laughed our asses off at Max and the mom apologized and looked really embarrassed. She'd sit at a lunch table and take up like like half of the seats.

There was this whale who used to tell me I was "sexy" back in high school. I didn't know if she wanted to fuck me or eat me. Glad I never found out.

 

[Nonconsentual Pronouns]

One thing they had in common was husbands that were long haul truckers.

Gee, I wonder why.

Generally, it's the other way around. Lonely and bored at home without their husbands, so they just eat. The family member I have in that lifestyle goes to a lot of trouble to make sure she'll stay productively preoccupied while her husband's away, specifically mentioning multiple times that she doesn't want to get fat like the other truckers' wives.

thread tax:
I'm so sick of fatfucks who neglect their pets. Every single person I've met or observed who lets their cat outside untethered to get sick, hit by a car, mauled by a dog, etc is always either a deathfat, a retard hippie or one of those cunts who thinks having a baby is an excuse to neglect, abuse and throw away their pets. Worse yet, the dumb, fat, spic cunts this time around waited for their cat to fall over from blood loss to decide to get the dog bite seen to.
Put the goddamn Takis down and get off your fat, retard asses; your already neglected cat is fucking dying.

 

[Dimensional Sperge]

When I was in high school, there was this casual teacher who looked like Flats the flounder from Spongebob and was of course, very fat.

One day, my friend and I were going to the canteen and we see this lady buying four tubs of creamy, boscaiola pasta to eat for recess.

There also was a teacher who was morbidly obese to the point where he'd get exhausted walking up stairs and had trouble walking in the narrow hallways at school. As you could imagine, he was obese to the point where he was unfit to do teaching and had to quit so he could get lap band surgery but he never returned to the profession but his wife who worked at the school stayed there for an extra year and that's how the word about his health got about.

 

[I call shenanigans]

I had the displeasure of sitting next to one at a BBQ on the weekend. I've met her a few times before. My first encounter was about 5 years ago when a family member asked if they could give this woman my email as she was planning to have WLS and they felt some home truths were needed. They weren't wrong. She choose to have VSG because her weakness was icecream and she wouldn't risk losing her icecream because of the potential for dumping syndrome. Well she had her VSG so she could get her BMI down to 35 so she could get knee replacement surgeries. Even on the way home from the hospital after her WLS her husband said he had to stop at Maccas for soft serve icecream sundaes (and pretty much everyday after). According to her she can't eat much, but icecream is still her one weakness. She did get her BMI to 36 (still considered morbidly obese), close enough for the orthopedic surgeon to replace her knees, then promptly ate her way back to at least as large as she was before. Turns out she is now going back to her bariatric surgeon hoping to get approved for a revision to a Duodenal Switch surgery. She made sure I saw how little she ate, even making it obvious that she was handing food off to her hubby. The whole time she was drinking full sugar sodas, and once I moved she dished herself up a second helping of food.

What really got me up and moving to another end of the table, was she said she wished she'd had abdominoplasty when she hit her lowest weight because then there would not have been room in her abdomen for the fat to fill up again. In case you didn't know the fat refills the loose skin because there's room, but can't come back if the skin is too tight. Utter lunacy!