Late last night, when I was all stressed out from being at the might-be, might-not-be, deathbed of the cat Floyd, I decided to drive down to the big city to get some cigarettes and gasoline. It was circa 2:00 a.m., and there was nothing in town open at that time of the night.
So.....I got there, put some gasoline in the motor vehicle, and then walked into the station to pay for that, and get some cigarettes. I saw a long-distance truck driver whose face looked familiar to me, and so I chitchatted with him for a while.
He was complaining about his wife; that part, I caught, but the rest went over my head--but no harm done, because I already knew the rest of the story. Wives really really really like the monster-sized paychecks their truck-driving husbands bring home, but wives at the same time bitch and moan about their husbands being away from home too much, too long.
What such wives don't seem to understand is no long absences from home, no supersized paychecks to bring home for them to spend.
Anyway.
Suddenly I noticed the truck driver was looking outside the window, towards the gasoline pumps.
I turned.
The first thing I saw was the DEMOCRATICUNDERGROUND.COM bumper-sticker on the back.
This was a vehicle with a license plate from Iowa.
But the bumper-sticker wasn't what the truck driver was staring at.
This was a late-model LARGE sedan sort of vehicle.
The guy pumping the gasoline was, uh, grotesquely monstrously large.
Because the bulge was way further down than it usually is in such people, at first, he reminded me of the hoop skirts worn by women circa 1850-1870, the way he fanned out, although like a hoop skirt some inches off the ground. Later on, I decided, no, he was really more like an enormous bell with two tiny short legs.
This guy was just really spread out, but much lower than say, for example, Fat Che.
When he came into the station (having to open both front doors to squeeze inside), the truck driver and I got a closer look at him; he couldn't have been more than 20, 22, years old. He was about 5'9" or 5'10", and his area of widest circular expanse was about my knees (I myself am 6'3") are; pretty close to the ground. His legs were tiny spindly little things. I wear size 10 shoes; I estimated his size of feet to be somewhat more than half my own size, so say, size 6 men's shoes, if there is such a thing.
His weight?--due to the grotesqueness of his proportions, I could garner no guess, other than in excess of 400-450 pounds.
Incredibly, he went to pick up six--I repeat, six--of those large $1.99 beef burritos, and while microwaving them, grabbed a $3.79 (feeds twelve) bag of Doritos, and a half-gallon carton of ice cream.
Damn.
I followed him to the counter (his burritos had not finished microwaving yet), wishing to snoop. His arms seemed the average length of arms for someone his size, but still, due to the circular bulge way down below, he couldn't reach the counter, and the cashier had to reach over to take his purchases, so as to ring them up. He said something to the cashier--I assume, without really knowing, it had something to do with paying for the burritos still in the microwave.
He pulled out his wallet.
Being deaf, I have quick eyes.
There was a lot of stuff in the wallet, but my eyes latched onto what appeared to be a business card for someone employed by the Iowa state department of social services. It couldn't have been his business card (I caught only the top half of it), due to his condition, and so it had to be a business card for a.....welfare caseworker.
He took his bagged purchases over to the table next to the microwave, but as the microwave wasn't done yet, he swiveled his way down the other side of the gas station, towards the restrooms. He got back there, and then turned around; obviously, he hadn't seen the very large sign advertising the "handicapped" bathroom as being at the other end of the establishment.
Instead, he picked up his done-cooking burritos, bagged them, and waddled out of the two front doors.
After he reached his vehicle outdoors, the truck driver commented, "You know, I wonder how he bends back and under, to wipe."
Lest the truck driver look bad, I have to admit I myself had the exact same thought ten seconds before the truck driver uttered his; the only difference being I didn't say it.
Damn.