I actually made a throwaway account for this and any other stories I might tell here. Because, well, if I can't discuss it somewhere I might end up complaining at work...and lose the best-paying job I've ever had so far in my life!
So I am an independent contractor in a professional type of field (needing licensing and all). Today I started on a job...going over business records and etc. for [redacted reasons to hide my profession]. But in the foreign language I grew up speaking, not English.
I'm so damn excited, guys. I can have the type of work I'm doing now be more interesting, instead of so boring I have to do stress positions to stay awake, and make more than double my hourly rate!
Until I see where I am sitting in the open office. It's long tables with rows of monitors, and each person only has just enough desk space to fit dual monitors, paperwork, and a notebook. That's not the problem, though. The problem is, I have to sit right by this...well, phrases from Kafka's literary work spring to mind, but I like the phrasing of "planets" used here.
This person is so enormous that she HAS to sit on the end of the row, forcing others to squeeze by her lard-butt. So enormous she can't even walk to her powered wheelchair in the corner a few feet away, but instead slides over in her office chair. Her stomach and FUPA are so big that she can't physically push her chair very close to her desk, and so she has to lean way forward while working. It looks like a T-Rex trying to type. Can't breathe either. She's wheezing like she's just climbed up the stairs to the 15th floor office, and it's ice-cold near her desk space, because the fat makes her so overheated she needs to practically make a refrigerator out of fans.
I'm no pixie (my BMR is proven to be very, very low because I was anorexic in my early twenties, making weight loss and dieting hard physically and mentally, and I need bloating steroids sometimes for severe allergies). Plus, I'm gay, so I know that discrimination or harassment feels bad. So I am trying to be okay with where I'm supposed to sit, and be nice to...ham planet. But upon sitting down and getting project materials, I see that this...collosal blob...has left me almost no desk space- just what's directly underneath/in front of my monitors. Not exaggerating. I can barely open a notebook and still have room to write, or eat at my desk. Oh, and half the reason I have no room? Is because she's piled various snacks she eats throughout the day all around her, since she's too fat to bend over and thus keep things under her desk! If I were too fat to move freely, I might, you know, STOP snacking. But...fat logic.
So I am trying to work today, with my shoulders practically on my ears and only being able to look at one piece of paper at a time, because I have NO elbow room or room to put things down. And then it's lunch time! Hamplanet is gone for nearly two hours, so I think maybe she's gone for the day. I breathe a sigh of relief.
It was too soon. She finally comes back, gasping, a landed whale, clutching a bag from a burger place, and at least a 40 oz regular soda. She says how much she loves Coke. Now I have even less room, because she's eating. The. Noise. Slurping, finger-licking, and wheezing more loudly than ever. But that's not the worst.
The SMELL. My God. Apparently joysticking her way to go and get burgers is exhausting, even though she hasn't walked a single step. Because she's dripping sweat. I don't think she CAN physically clean her rolls, because it honestly smelled like something died next to me. And since she's hot, she turns all her fans on full- blowing my papers around and making me freeze.
And then...she falls asleep at her desk. I know, because she's still struggling to breathe, with long, snorting snores. I think work must be afraid to fire her, because she's now so fat she's actually disabled. After she woke up...she then motored herself down to an event today. For free ice cream. Then complained they didn't give her enough! I feel especially bad working near her now, since the rest of the people hired for this high-paying foreign language work...are thin Europeans or dual citizens. I don't want hamplanet to be their view of Americans, or for them to think I'm like her! (I am American born but bilingual, and chubby. You know, size 10 or so).
I haven't said anything up the chain of command about my space problem, because the pay is AWESOME, but I do need room to work! And not have to be gagging every afternoon. At least my same-level colleagues and I can talk about her without having to worry about being "behind her back"- she knows ZERO other languages, and the only management who does is all the way over in Europe! Still, I don't want to complain in either language- I'm not taking any risks with this job! So, I came here. Any ideas what I should do?
Submitted July 21, 2017 at 07:47AM by SchnarchendeSchwein http://ift.tt/2tlbAsV fatpeoplestories
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