Fat guys.

Okay, before I even begin to get into all this, I will calm your confused minds. This will not be a self-pitying entry on the sad state of my waistline, nor will it be me decrying anyone overweight, as I know I am, technically, among those ranks. Rather, tonight I look at what I consider to be a rather uniquely American phenomenon: the fat guy.

Now, I am not saying that one's weight immediately lumps them into this category. I will not claim that the behaviours I will be discussing are completely foreign to thin people. But as I was sitting at the coffee shop tonight, I had a rather unsavory encounter with a gastronomical giant.

Allow me to set the scene: it's about 8:45, and not too long ago I got my cup of coffee and had settled in on the couch at my coffee shop. I generally do not like sitting on the couch because not only is it a deeeeep couch that requires some effort to stand from, it also invites people to sit RIGHT next to you, and those of you who really know me know that I'm all about personal space. However, on this particular evening the couch was the only option afforded to me. After a brief period of uninterrupted reading, I notice an especially large figure literally waddle into the doorway. I subtly glance around and realize that the two couch seats to my right are the only seats available. The large man (I even hesitate to use gentleman for this particular person) moves towards me, and plops (not places, plops his tote bag full of belongings down RIGHT next to me on the couch. Unfazed, I keep reading. Then, I start to get annoyed -- he stands and hunches over so that he may remove his jacket and hat, sticking his big ass roughly eight to ten inches from my face. I understand the cramped quarters that can at times be brought about in the coffee shop, but this is a bit uncalled for. He then turns around and I see it: the hanging stomach. Now, there is one glaring warning sign that accompanies all "fat guys" and that is the stomach that hangs out from underneath your clothing. This guy had it. He had it bad. There was probably a solid three inches of hanging flab that was seeing daylight, and it was seeing daylight less than a foot from my face.

Still, unperturbed I return to my book as biggie moves over to the counter to order. Here he makes his second glaring mistake. He used the ATM, and had some issue that was preventing him from getting his money out. Despite the fact that there was an empty counter with incredibly friendly (I speak from experience here) employees maybe five feet behind him, he won't budge. Rather, he bellows out some question to the staff over his shoulder. I have my headphones in, and boy did I appreciate them tonight. This is one of a few instances where this man moves from "overweight person" to "fat guy". Rather than walking a few steps to ask a question politely, he stands stock still and hollers until assistance comes to him.

He also made what I perceive to be another fatal "fat guy" decision: he orders a sandwich, a chocolate chip cookie, a brownie, and a cup of coffee. He fills up his cup with coffee, and spills a goodly amount of coffee on his way to the couch. To the point where I heard the splashing and had to quickly pull my feet back so as not to have brown stains on my black Vans. Then, he sits on the couch. He doesn't apologize to me, he doesn't apologize to the staff. He doesn't hesitate. He won't clean it up, nor will he bring the spill to the staff's attention so they can attend to the puddle of coffee on the ground. As soon as he sits down, he polishes off the brownie. It was there, then it was gone. He licks his fingers, a move which is okay in the comfort of your own home, but something I personally find revolting to do in public. He waits a moment, pulls out the cookie, eats a quarter of it, and tosses it aside because his sandwich shows up. While he eats, I can't help but overhear, sneaking in around the music I'm listening to, that he makes little puffing noises from time to time while eating and chewing. So I now have auditory stimuli to accompany my visuals. He then turns to the sandwich. He took his time, however every time I glanced over, not only did he have mayonnaise and dressing running down his face, he had a small garden of lettuce and other fixings that had accumulated on his man-teats and belly. He gets roughly halfway through the sandwich, then makes a worse mistake: he falls asleep.

Now, he is asleep, dressing on the chin, lettuce on the belly, sandwich still in hand as a matter of fact. He just leans his head back on the couch and nods right off. Thank heavens that soon enough, one of the baristas comes around and wakes him up because his snoring was becoming a tad too loud for concentration. He says something quickly in reply and turns back to the sandwich. He polishes it off, retrieves his cookie, knocks that out lickity-split, and is all but ready to leave. However, he realizes that he doesn't have a napkin. Rather than getting up from the couch and walking seven feet to the napkins on the counter, he grabs his discarded sandwich receipt and wipes his mouth on it. It's at this point where I'm about to lose my dinner. Worse still, when finished with the now-soiled receipt, he drops it on the floor. And what happens to be a few inches from its landing spot? That's right: my feet. Fortunately, his wiping of the mouth, regardless of the paper that was doing the wiping, at least marked his departure from the coffee shop.

Now, I must make a brief side-note here... he also ate all of this food doing one thing that I despise whether the eater be fat, thin, male, female, or other: he spent the whole time chewing with his mouth open. I don't know if you people have a distaste for this act like I do, but it sends shivers up my spine. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Nothing ruins whatever state I happen to be in like the sound of someone smacking their gums as they masticate some food. It's like listening to a fucking cow chew it's cud, and it is flat-out disgusting.

So I think: what is it with people like this? I know I'm big, my dad is bigger than me, and I have more friends over 225 than I can count on my fingers. But what happens, how does this transformation occur, when you go from "festively plump" to "fat guy"? Is it somehow written in a lost book of the law that there is a certain code of conduct that these people have to obey? I try my best to be tolerant of everyone. I know that everyone has their reasons for what they do, but when someone so deeply impedes on my ability to enjoy a quiet evening of reading at the local coffee shop, I get a little testy. So now I ask you for your ideas: are you a "fat guy" before you put on the weight, or does the behaviour come hand-in-hand with the pounds?

I leave you with this: if you haven't read it, see if you can track down the story "Fat" by Raymond Carver. The physical description is rather similar, but deportment of the large man in his story couldn't have been any different than the man I had the displeasure of sharing a couch with on a cold Monday night. Secondly, I leave you with a piece of advice: whenever you go to a coffee shop, never, and I repeat never fall asleep. You have no idea how awkward it is. I can speak from personal experience from my days back at the 'Bucks, you automatically become the elephant in the room. Pun intended.