The H-Files Part I: Starhams This story is comprised of two parts that take place within 15 minutes of each-other.  Background: Today is a shitty day. My iPad screen acquired a stress fracture, I had a lot of stuff due in school, I'm running a half-marathon in 2 days and currently I feel like absolute shit... Therefore my already low threshold for annoyance by anything, especially fat useless fucks, is even lower than a normal day.  Part I: While waiting for the Genius bar technician at least 5 jumbo hams attempt to get service for their broken iPhones, and they (of course) don't have appointments. However, they don't have the intellectual capacity to go to the customer service rep who stands at the front of the fucking store and asks what he can help with. So these fat fucks waddle around the store to the Genius bar and ask loudly "My Ahhphone screen broke". The guy asks: "Do you have an appointment?" The hams of course do not because that would require planning and time management. No, of course everything has to be on your time you fat useless bag of (at least pre) diabetic cottage cheese skin trash. This happens multiple times in the 20 minutes I am there. My patience is waning... I feel like shit, and I already know they have to order me a new iPad because they don't stock the one I have. So why the fuck am I there? So they finally get to me and tell me they're going to order one...  Part II: Because I have time to kill before class I decide to hit up Starbucks. I usually avoid Starbucks like the plague (for various reasons... the quality of the coffee, the cost... I have an espresso machine). I order the simplest drink possible--a cappuccino. It should take 30 seconds to make on a normal day... and the Starbucks was basically empty. So in walks this super fit woman wearing tennis gear (who I later overhear has like 3 kids or something... must be gunetiks keeping her fir) and behind her is a lard tub who is maybe 25? (ham ages are fucking hard) who has legit cottage cheese for legs. I could just see the look of contempt on this hams' face it was wonderful (and it bought a water and a salad... hahaha like that's your first lunch you fat fuck). However, standing between me and my drink was the biggest fuck I have seen in awhile. I could have used one of its pantlegs as a fucking sleeping bag. Jesus fuck. I mean holy fuck it was HUGE! It only got worse from there. There was a ham sitting at the counter, and there was a ham behind the counter. The counter ham smiled. I didn't acknowledge it (it's not a person, it's not deserving of acknowledgment). The barhamista took fucking forever to make my drink I mean THE PLACE WAS ALMOST EMPTY! YOU PRESS 2 fucking buttons and steam some milk... I mean jesus fuck. Does being a fat fuck slow its brain clock speed so much that it is incapable of simple instructions!!!!