Fatass manager at my jobsite today. Ah another day at fastbeetus. Currently have the joy of being in Tennessee this week. So jobsite has the usual assorted fat ass customers, the opening manager was actually human sized (amazing when I encounter this).  But later that day I had the pleasure of interacting with an eatbeast mayo.  This specimen was obese, obviously fabulous  (got nothing against that) and definitely suffering from adipose in the skull. My first interaction with this creature was carrying a ladder through the kitchen. It decided to stop in the narrow aisle to talk to a smallfat employee. "Behind you" I say. No response. "BEHIND YOU!" I yell, as again, I am trying to get a goddamn ladder through the kitchen. It looks back at me, proceeds to glare and shuffle towards the end of the aisle. As always in these locations you have an assortment of smallfat-deathfat employees, and when I are trying to hurry or get through, I am inevitably stuck behind their jiggling posterior and stuck walking at a crawl while praying that they keel over dead.   So this brings us to the end of the day. I have to give the manager my report.  Some pretty big issues at this location. 2 burned up motors, 2 improperly anchored motors, grease filled filters and grease pouring out of the exhaust fans on the roof, just nasty disgusting shit, among even more equally disgusting shit (my hands and shirt are now black with the essence of Lord Beetus). I track down this fabulous celestial body to give him my report. I find it near the softserve ice cream machine.  Thinking it was doing a customers order, I ask it if it has time to hear my report.  Blank stare, "umm ok" all the while pouring beetus into a cone. I start going over my findings with him, it just stares at me with those squinty bovine eyes. The soft serve cone is moved to under some apparatus that dispenses some sort of fudge.  I am still trying to relay the information and it stops me "who do we need to call?" "Well... corporate will get my report and should have it under control" I watched its brain shut off there.  It is not it's problem fuck it.  The cone has now been twirled under the fudge, the vanilla ice cream is now a dark brown. "Well ok, anything I need to do?"  "No, just making sure you are aware of the issues in this store" "Oh ok", he then proceeds to step behind the drive thru soda dispenser and chowing down on the beetus cone. TL/DR: fatty doesn't give a damn about it's store conditions, the only thing of importance was it's Sugah's.