Fatties working at the local shop Since I joined FPH back on that website and seeing banned a week later, I've found my derision for hamplanets leaking very clearly from the internet into the physical. Before I continue this story is nowhere near as vile as some of the ones Ive read here. At one of the local shops (a small version of a well know supermarket, common in the UK) they seem to be enacting a policy of hiring short fat planets, who are pretty nauseating if I'm honest. I have to straddle the edges of the store where the aisles are wider in order to avoid being molested by fat rolls trying to waddle past me. Navigating the store requires a military level of planning and awareness. Ingress, Egress, which food items I need, amount of fatties working, is one following me or working in the aisle, could I become trapped in the aisle wedged between two manatees?  But sadly despite my planning they can still attempt to engage my attention at the checkout. Twice now Ive had horribly awkward conversations that spawned despite me looking anywhere but directly at them, as well as minimising my responses. 1. I cannot remember exactly what was said, however I will give you the gist of it. I walk in and grab my olives, apples, pasta, milk etc and proceed to pay. Go to the checkout, low and behold its this 5ft behemoth who must weigh at least as much as I do (despite me being 6ft and muscular). She asks me if im buying tobacco for myself and I.Ds me. So I'm already annoyed since the age for smoking in the UK is 18 and I am noticeably older than that and the person serving me. Fatty proceeds to mention that she's a security guard (yeah really) blah blah dont want to lose my license. Apparently my facial expression of a cross between bemusement and anger isnt enough to indicate my contempt because she continues on the subject. Skip forward a week and Im back in the same store buying more shit. Get in the queue to pah and lo and behold shes one of the cashiers. Great. She notices. This is where it gets funny. I see the look of sudden desperation come across her adipose wrinkles, as she notices the cashier next to her is nearly done with their customer. Imagine the look a ham gives when they see someone about to take the last krispy kreme donut out of the box. Im shitting myself internally, honestly seeing this disgusting embodiment of sloth become so desperate to serve me as if I was ever going to be interested (spoiler alert: Id rather die choking whilst sucking my own cock than physically touch something like that) is one of the most pitiful things I've seen in a while. As if it couldnt get anywhere worse, she obviously got a sudden rush of adrenaline because she started scanning shit and bagging it at fucking light speed. That must be the fastest she has moved in her butter huffing life.  Suddenly I notice that she has managed to scan all the items and is getting the customer to pay. Now panic mode is setting in."Will I have to be held captive in an awful conversation I dont want to have?" I think to myself. Luckily the customer at the other cashier had a wireless chip on his card, and managed to save me having to burst my ear drums with a rusty knife. 2. As above I'm gathering my goods and I see that another new hamplanet has been hired (probably because the manager is a fucking whale herself). Oh joy I think, I wonder which species this one is.  Turns out it is also the desperate, timid kind who confuses politeness with interest. After I'd grabbed my shit and headed to pay, this lard is struggling to reach packages on the floor and so cant see me. Not wishing to engage it with words, I simply attempt to make some noise by making loudish steps. It still cant hear me over its wheezing caused by a lifetime of poor choices. Eventually after another 20 seconds elapses it can finally lift its 3 chins and notices me. It beckons me to the end till. I set my goods down and fatty begins to scan them. Excellent, I say in my inner monologue, she can see Im disinterested and maybe I wont have t.... "How are we today". A little bit of vomit hits the back of my throat, and derision hits my brain. Here we go again. "I'm good. You?" "I'm really well thank you. Hows your day going" At this point I begin to notice the incredibly rapid pace at which items are being flung across the scanner by the buttergolem. Fucks sake I think. Why is it always the fucking fat ones. I spent the entire conversation thus far looking at my watch, the aisles, other customers, the cigarettes, the card reader and the exit. Anywhere but at the fattt. However I can feel its eyes focused solely on my face, with an intensity usually reserved for Oreo Cheesecake. "Pretty dull. Busy?" "No we've not been too busy today. It's quite surprising on a day like today." Now she is launching my products so god damn fast across the scanner that a pack of biscuits (oh the irony) slips out of its greasy butterfingers. Just a shame that didnt happen all its life or it wouldnt be trapped in an adipose cage. I hear this almighty thud as the packet carries all the momentum from the planet trying to eclipse the LHC as a particle accelerator. The fucking fatty giggles to itself. Yeah please break all the things I want to buy you cunt. At this point im shaking my head, not violently but if you are watching me it would be quite obvious. Yet it still isnt done launching my shit around. Finally I manage to escape its gravity and make for the exit deliberately not looking at its face. What pisses me off most is that these fucking human representations of sloth, gluttony and greed think that someone who works out 6 times a week is in anyway going to ever be interested in these fucking lardarses? Do they have such low self awareness that they think they are on equal footing? Its lucky for them that I'm British and was raised to be polite or I'd probably say something incredibly rude, but luckily neither mentioned dieting or working out. That would cross a serious line.