The weebol belly bumper
Now, I must start this blog out by professing not to be the most tolerant person about obesity. It bugs me. It bugs me if people are obese and they chow down too much food and admit to being lazy. GO TO THE GYM for crying out loud! Ok, with that being said, I have to share about a coworker.
I call her The Weebol. The Weebol was the follow up partner to the Snarf Tard, so you know we're already at a low tolerance level at this point. I was so frustrated I would come home in tears at a new shift bid knowing that I would have to work with the Snarf Tard or the Weebol. Well, as my luck had it, I got the Weebol.
The Weebol is a 40+ year old lesbian with arms more hairy than any man I've known and an udder like a cow. She's only 5'2" and I swear she's got to be at least 300 lbs. She is also clumsy. As in she doesn't walk, she clomps. And god forbid, you get busy and need her to rush. It isn't going to happen. The Weebol is mentally unable to move at an accellerated pace. She's a fucking idiot. She's not only stupid, but she's fat and hairy and LAZY. She'll settle into a chair in an almost supine position and when somebody comes into the front lobby for help, she'll just sit there and say she doesn't want to help them, she's "just being lazy". There is nothing worse than a fat pig who admits to being lazy and doesn't want to even get up to do her job. In example to her laziness, she would get all the reports that needed to be processed and give them to me "because I type faster than her, so I might as well do the reports instead of her". No joke. By the way, it didn't fly, just so you know!
So, the scenario is this: it's a busy summer night with a DUI task force out. My city is a party town. For 30 officers to each get multiple DUI arrests, they come to my city. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.
As the night progresses, more and more arrests are coming in and the station starts getting cramped, especially in the jail. As we process each arrest, we have to ask certain questions like are you healthy, do you need any medical treatement, can you be housed with other people or are you going to start fights and hurt people or get hurt, etc. Stuff like that. Well there I was, doing my job, asking classification questions to an inmate when the Weebol walks behind me to get something from the other end of the counter and I'll be darned if she didn't friggin BUMP me with her belly. Now if you don't know your own girth, and you actually are so friggin fat that you bump somebody, it's time to do some serious thinking. That being said, I'm sure you understand my frustration with being bumped in the ass by a fat, hairy lesbian's belly. But can you understand my feelings when she bumped me a SECOND time? Oh My God. If you're that fat and you bump somebody, don't you readjust your walkway so you don't do it again? Just for good measure she friggin did it a THRID time. THREE friggin times. At that point I slammed down my paperwork and pen, walked backward about 4 steps and yelled..."obviously you don't know your own size, so I'm just going to stand here until you're done over there". And I waited as she clomped to get her reports and went and clomped to another area.
I don't care if I sound rude or hurtful about this. It was too much. It's RUDE when you're so friggin fat that you can't walk in a normal walkway without bumping your big fat udder into people. It's flat out disgusting that this person couldn't figure out that when she walked past me and bumped me...that she should walk past me again, but about a foot farther away. THREE FUCKING TIMES.
Now I know I sound strong on this, and maybe not very kind. But come on! Three times in a row, she friggin belly bumped me! Just so you all know...I'm not the only victim. She is so obtuse, she's done it to other people at work too. Just as I was, they were repulsed and revolted too!
Well, prior to this point, my partner asked me to be her "coach" and help her with her diet and exercise routine (she had none and wanted one). My spouse at the time thought that this was a very bad thing. He didn't want me to touch it with a 10 foot pole. I should have listened. Instead, I helped her plan her meals and helped her plan an exercise routine. (taking the friggin dog for a walk, instead of letting it crap on the floor and cleaning it up later)
My breaking point was when she came into work...huffing and puffing...all excited that she had to change her belt to a lesser size. She had lost enough weight to fit into a size 56. After working with her for 9 months, discussing diet and exercise etc....she had a friggin 56 inch belly.
My work is done.
I had to change shifts so I didn't work with her or the Snarf Tard anymore. I couldn't handle it.
I call her The Weebol. The Weebol was the follow up partner to the Snarf Tard, so you know we're already at a low tolerance level at this point. I was so frustrated I would come home in tears at a new shift bid knowing that I would have to work with the Snarf Tard or the Weebol. Well, as my luck had it, I got the Weebol.
The Weebol is a 40+ year old lesbian with arms more hairy than any man I've known and an udder like a cow. She's only 5'2" and I swear she's got to be at least 300 lbs. She is also clumsy. As in she doesn't walk, she clomps. And god forbid, you get busy and need her to rush. It isn't going to happen. The Weebol is mentally unable to move at an accellerated pace. She's a fucking idiot. She's not only stupid, but she's fat and hairy and LAZY. She'll settle into a chair in an almost supine position and when somebody comes into the front lobby for help, she'll just sit there and say she doesn't want to help them, she's "just being lazy". There is nothing worse than a fat pig who admits to being lazy and doesn't want to even get up to do her job. In example to her laziness, she would get all the reports that needed to be processed and give them to me "because I type faster than her, so I might as well do the reports instead of her". No joke. By the way, it didn't fly, just so you know!
So, the scenario is this: it's a busy summer night with a DUI task force out. My city is a party town. For 30 officers to each get multiple DUI arrests, they come to my city. It's like shooting fish in a barrel.
As the night progresses, more and more arrests are coming in and the station starts getting cramped, especially in the jail. As we process each arrest, we have to ask certain questions like are you healthy, do you need any medical treatement, can you be housed with other people or are you going to start fights and hurt people or get hurt, etc. Stuff like that. Well there I was, doing my job, asking classification questions to an inmate when the Weebol walks behind me to get something from the other end of the counter and I'll be darned if she didn't friggin BUMP me with her belly. Now if you don't know your own girth, and you actually are so friggin fat that you bump somebody, it's time to do some serious thinking. That being said, I'm sure you understand my frustration with being bumped in the ass by a fat, hairy lesbian's belly. But can you understand my feelings when she bumped me a SECOND time? Oh My God. If you're that fat and you bump somebody, don't you readjust your walkway so you don't do it again? Just for good measure she friggin did it a THRID time. THREE friggin times. At that point I slammed down my paperwork and pen, walked backward about 4 steps and yelled..."obviously you don't know your own size, so I'm just going to stand here until you're done over there". And I waited as she clomped to get her reports and went and clomped to another area.
I don't care if I sound rude or hurtful about this. It was too much. It's RUDE when you're so friggin fat that you can't walk in a normal walkway without bumping your big fat udder into people. It's flat out disgusting that this person couldn't figure out that when she walked past me and bumped me...that she should walk past me again, but about a foot farther away. THREE FUCKING TIMES.
Now I know I sound strong on this, and maybe not very kind. But come on! Three times in a row, she friggin belly bumped me! Just so you all know...I'm not the only victim. She is so obtuse, she's done it to other people at work too. Just as I was, they were repulsed and revolted too!
Well, prior to this point, my partner asked me to be her "coach" and help her with her diet and exercise routine (she had none and wanted one). My spouse at the time thought that this was a very bad thing. He didn't want me to touch it with a 10 foot pole. I should have listened. Instead, I helped her plan her meals and helped her plan an exercise routine. (taking the friggin dog for a walk, instead of letting it crap on the floor and cleaning it up later)
My breaking point was when she came into work...huffing and puffing...all excited that she had to change her belt to a lesser size. She had lost enough weight to fit into a size 56. After working with her for 9 months, discussing diet and exercise etc....she had a friggin 56 inch belly.
My work is done.
I had to change shifts so I didn't work with her or the Snarf Tard anymore. I couldn't handle it.
posted by inside the police at 9:59 AM
2 comments
