On my way to Lahore last weekend, I sat next to a fat man. When I boarded the bus, he was already there, sitting on both his seat, and mine. My first thought was, “My GOD! Where are his legs”? They were being engulfed by his awesome flab.
He looked at me and said, “Thank heavens someone like me isn’t sitting next to me.” Some people in the bus laughed. I didn’t. He lifted his buttcheek off of my seat and somehow managed to squeeze himself on to his own side. It didn’t matter. His fat would come oozing back on my seat five minutes later. He started talking right away.
Read the rest after the jump!
Fat man: What do you do?
Shehryar: I’m a student.
(By this time, most of him was back on my seat. I later realized he only asked me this question so he could start talking about himself)
Fat man: I’m a writer for a magazine.
Fat man: It’s not a commercial magazine. It’s a magazine dealing with the occult.
Fat man: I’ve been writing for 20 years. About the same time I started studying palmistry and astrology.
Shehryar: Really ? I don’t believe in that stuff.
(he ignored this)
Fat man : It’s a shame. They offer a masters degree of these things in India and Japan but in Pakistan, they don’t offer a masters degree of these things. But they do in India and Japan. Shame.
Shehryar : A damn shame.
After that he started talking about how his father was against him going into this field and how he convinced a molvi that palmistry and such was not haram. It’s not that I’m against his profession. I just didn’t care. Every time he paused, I looked away so he might get the hint. That didn’t work. So I acted like I was asleep. But he kept waking me up to have his one sided conversations. That’s right. He actually woke me up.
Let’s not forget the real reason for my misery though. A silent battle was going on between his lard and me for control of my seat. And his lard was winning. While I was watching the movie, he fell asleep. I was happy. Soon I started noticing a numbness in the left side of my body. The fat man was leaning on me instead of the window. I tried waking him up but he slept like a brick(house). I tried to ignore it as best as I could. By the time the movie had finished, I was sure my left leg was gone forever. And the fat man was practically on my lap.
So there you go. Conclusive proof that fat people shouldn’t be allowed to use public transport. Or they should buy two seats, like I saw a woman do once. Seriously.