- Joined
- Sep 9, 2024
I used to work a job where I interacted with numerous deathfats on a frequent basis, but there was one in particular who holds a special place in my memory. He was about four hundred pounds and came to my workplace once or twice a month, and every time my coworkers and I saw him walk through the door we would share a look of mutual horror because each of us feared that we'd be the unlucky one who would have to speak to him. He was far more polite and amicable than many of our other dysfunctional patrons, but we all did our best to avoid him like the plague because of the appalling, putrid stench he emitted.
He smelled much, much worse than the homeless drug addicts we saw who slept outdoors and hadn't bathed in God knows how long. I've yet to encounter anyone who smelled as rank as he did, and I pray that I never will. He smelled like an unholy conglomerate of body odor, dirty socks, sweat, and shit. Just thinking about it makes me feel nauseous. The entire time I worked there I don't think he ever once took a shower. His hair was incredibly greasy and clumpy, and his clothes looked like they were practically disintegrating on him. Having to speak to him face-to-face was an eye-watering experience considering you could smell him from several feet away. I had zero desire to hurt his feelings since he was always nice to me and I suspect he may have been at least mildly retarded, so I tried to act normal when we spoke but I'm sure he could tell that I was as horrified by him as everybody else was.
It was exceedingly difficult to maintain a smile and polite conversation while trying not to vomit, so eventually every time he came in I either claimed to be busy or pretended that I had to go the bathroom and hid there until he was gone. We had a high employee turnover rate so there was often someone new to pawn him off on. I quit working there long ago, but the memory of his stench remains as vivid as ever. Sometimes I find myself wondering what happened to him and if he's still alive or if he succumbed to whatever issues he had that made him think it was acceptable to live the way he did.
He smelled much, much worse than the homeless drug addicts we saw who slept outdoors and hadn't bathed in God knows how long. I've yet to encounter anyone who smelled as rank as he did, and I pray that I never will. He smelled like an unholy conglomerate of body odor, dirty socks, sweat, and shit. Just thinking about it makes me feel nauseous. The entire time I worked there I don't think he ever once took a shower. His hair was incredibly greasy and clumpy, and his clothes looked like they were practically disintegrating on him. Having to speak to him face-to-face was an eye-watering experience considering you could smell him from several feet away. I had zero desire to hurt his feelings since he was always nice to me and I suspect he may have been at least mildly retarded, so I tried to act normal when we spoke but I'm sure he could tell that I was as horrified by him as everybody else was.
It was exceedingly difficult to maintain a smile and polite conversation while trying not to vomit, so eventually every time he came in I either claimed to be busy or pretended that I had to go the bathroom and hid there until he was gone. We had a high employee turnover rate so there was often someone new to pawn him off on. I quit working there long ago, but the memory of his stench remains as vivid as ever. Sometimes I find myself wondering what happened to him and if he's still alive or if he succumbed to whatever issues he had that made him think it was acceptable to live the way he did.