That one time I went into GameStop Hey, FPH. This story happened around 2+ years ago -- whenever the release of Mortal Kombat on the PS4 was. I'd driven down to the nearest GameStop, which is, unfortunately, situated right next door to a Buffalo Wild Wings. I hate this GameStop because it absolutely reeks of grease, but I was desperate. I started walking in, when I hear from behind large, clapping footsteps. I assume someone is going to walk in with me, so I hold the door open for them. In walks a 5'8, maybe 330lb+ fat GameStop employee, carrying what looks like 3 large boxes of wings, all stacked on top of each other. He's wearing these cargo shorts, and a red Flash t-shirt that looked stained with various forms of grease and, if I had to guess, he was no more than 23 years old, which probably means he was still in his teens. He says "Hey, thanks, dude.", and continues to the back with his disgusting food. Now, I know it's called FPH for a reason, but I don't hate Fat People. Honestly, I don't. I hate the "fat person" mentality, where food is more important than your body, and, it's acceptable to give into your addictions. I hate when they say that you should be proud of who you are, even if you're 100lbs+ overweight, and unsightly to look at. I hate that the fact they make light of the fact that fat will literally ruin your life, and that people now think it's okay to have morbidly obese children. I hate fat people excuses of "Exercise just doesn't work for me." and "Diets don't work." I hate that bullshit, but I don't hate the person. That being said, I thought nothing of holding the door open for him. I started walking down the isles -- unknowingly to me, the same isles he had walked down -- when all of a sudden, this fucking horrible stench hits me. I start looking at the bottom of my shoes for dog shit, I started thinking maybe I'd tracked some in. I'm checking everywhere for the source of the smell when I realize: it was the Flash Fatty. I'd walked in his snail trail of odor, and the smell of unshowered, sweaty balls and unwashed clothes hit me all at once. I started fucking gagging. Even remembering the smell makes me want to burn my clothes. I'd found what I'd come for, walk up to the counter and pay. After the cute, human-sized cashier had bagged my game and handed me my change, I leaned over and said to her "One of you has to tell that guy to shower. That is ungodly."  She just kind of looked at the ground in shame and let out a very quiet "I know." And then I drove home and remembered I'm bad at fighting games.