My mother-in-law always says “no matter where you go you can always find someone fatter than you.” If you are having trouble in this area…well…I’m sorry…you’re it. For the rest of you this is quite accurate information even though it came from my mother-in-law and there is no statistical data available to back this statement up. That all being said lets continue to believe this is true.
There we were wedged into the seats provided, sitting uncomfortably comfortable in our allotted space so that we do encroach over the seats around us, when we witnessed ushers approaching fatter fatties that were unable to take on the challenge of “The Seats.” They just didn’t have the fight in them…or damn, they were just really fat. We watched in amazement when an usher said to the fatter fatties “Not to be rude but you’re just not gonna fit” as she made the supersized motion with her arms. My wife and I laughed, joking about the usher getting a giant lubed up shoehorn sprayed with Pam, the butter flavored kind to help them glide into their seat. Of course if this was happening to us we would not be laughing at all, but because it’s someone else we can laugh… it’s fair game!
As we took in a few chuckles while not chocking on our oversized pretzels, we had a good, jolly, belly laugh until we witnessed the usher escort these fatter fatties to another section.. the handicapped section. Here these fatties could sprawl out on padded folding chairs with plenty of room all around them. These seats where also located in the more expensive ticket area closer to the stage. Where is it that one draws a line to say “you are so fat… you’re handicapped”? How uncomfortable does one need to be until they are deemed eligible to be called Fatticapped. We are all for fat people rights, but why should someone get upgraded to a more luxurious seat for just being fat? My wife and I are fat too, but we were made to suffer in silence. After realizing that people were being compensated with better seats just for carrying more tonnage, my wife and I tried to appear as though we were struggling within our confines. Sadly the ushers could see through our ruse. They did not deem us Fatticaped, which usually would be good, unless it means better seats.
We watched as several spectators fatter than us got moved up. There had to have been at least a half a dozen that we witnessed go to the promise land of wider seats and wide open spaces. The kicker here was if the fatty had a non fat friend, they also moved up, as the ushers did not want to leave the fatty all by their lonesome, even though they have their fat to keep them warm. I saw one couple who resembled the number ten who were upgraded. During the concert I saw the large one… we’ll call her #0… sitting like a lump, and her “date” we’ll call him #1 basking in the glory of all his extra space, dancing up a storm, he had room to do back flips and a solo Pasodoble.
I guess I’ll have to gain some weight before my next concert so that I can enjoy a seat in the promised land. Let’s face it, we all know gaining weight is easier than losing it.