The Fat Man

I thought I wrote this story once before on this blog, but I can't find it anywhere....so I'll give it another run.

The Fat Man

I used to serve on this community board that reviewed proposals and provided funding for economic revitalization projects. The committee was made up of a mix of municipal managers and interested members of the community ( that's code of old board crazy women). People would come in, present their situation to this group of 30 people, then at the end of the process we'd decide which projects got money and how much.

It was local government at it's best and worst. The community representatives who sat on the board tended to be people who were nutjobs in their own communities and who badgered their local manager about street trees, the local cat population, storm water issues, or problems with 'those people' moving into their neighborhoods. What the managers do is sympathetically listen to these ( usually widowed) women and then empower them to solve the worlds problems by getting them involved in this committee or ones like it. So while a lot of really good projects got funded, the engineers presenting the projects often get the pleasure of fielding questions such as;

( to the guy presenting a housing project)...." Do you have a plan on how this project might affect the local cat population "

( same lady to the guy on a street repair project)...." Do you have a plan on how this project might affect the local cat population "

( and to the the guy presenting a new train station)..." Do you own any cats ?"

But the point of this story revolves around the ringleader of this circus, Kevin...aka The Fat Man.

Although a really sincere and nice guy, Kevin was the epitome of a county government bureaucrat...which is to say that he was like the dude who works at the comic book store or the movie rental place, just a little more qualified. And in this particular instance, Kevin was like 10 people who work at the comic book store or movie rental place. He had to be AT LEAST 400 lbs...AT LEAST. But for a big man he was impeccably dress and groomed, which couldn't have been easy. He always had nice slacks, a dress shirt, and always wore a tie which made him look like he was in a constant state of strangulation.

The room was set up in the shape of the letter U and the 30 of us sat around the U with Kevin standing at a podium at the front of the room in the open part of the letter. In my typical passive-aggressive manner, I would always show up 15 minutes late and have to take the only available seat which would always be at the tip of the U....away from everyone else and slightly left and slightly behind Kevin. The got me out of having to talk with the cat lady, or anyone else really, and I got a front row seat in watching Kevin stand there sweating in his monkey suit.

One on particular day I arrived at my usual time only to find that Kevin wasn't there. I took my usual seat and 5 minutes later Kevin walked in looking terrible. His shirt tails were out, no tie, he was red as a beet, and he was sweating profusely.

" Pardon me ", he addressed the class in his usual overly formal way, " I apologize for being tardy but I'm not feeling well and it's caused me to run a little late. I believe I have a little stomach bug "

" Dude if YOU have a stomach bug, you can be sure that there's nothing little about it !", of course I didn't say that aloud because everyone else in the room had their tight-ass community do-gooder persona on...but I took pleasure in at least thinking shit like that.

So we began the process of debate with people reviewing cases, making arguments, and asking Kevin questions, mostly while I doodled and pretended to be listening intently and nodding every once in a while.

While two people were engaged in a particularly intense discussion and I was engaged in particularly intense boredom, something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. With everyone looking at the far side of the room, I look to my right and could see that Kevin was having an issue. The combination of the heat, him having to stand, and his stomach bug seemed to be catching up to him. As I stared at him I could see him start to go.....the sweat was pouring off of him...his breathing was shallow and fast....and his color was going from fire engine red directly to a sheet of white.

Holy fuck...he was going to pass out !

This was going to be awesome.

He starting swaying in place, like a giant sycamore being cut down...chop ...chop ....chop ....

" FALL !!! FAT MAN FALL !!!!", I screamed in my head, urging him on, " FALL FAT MAN !!!" I looked around the room and all eyes were the other other direction. I desperately wanted to catch someone's attention to share in this glorious moment...

Kevin let go of the podium and stumbled back a few steps, swaying, his arms making slight grabbing motions....

A better man may have jumped up and steadied him, but I am not a better man, " FALL FAT MAN FALL " I continued to chant silently. " Go down Fat Man, go down "

And just as he started to go, his left arm found the back wall. He steadied himself and took in a deep breath and exhaled 'woooooosh' the air escaping a giant flesh balloon. Miraculously, the color returned to his face and he leaned forward to the podium once again steadying himself just as the conversation and all the eyes returned to his direction.

Everyone was unaware of just how close we had all been to laying witness to a life changing event and someone asked him one of the typically benign questions, " Kevin, what percentages are we to use again ?"

I found myself a weird mix of euphoric at what had just occurred, but also saddened at what didn't and definitely disgusted with myself as a person when "it" happened.

Kevin began to answer, " You should use between 60 and .."

The evil that had built up inside of him...the evil that he had miraculously avoided...it hadn't gone away...the evil had just moved....

He stammered for a second, be-...be-...between 60 and ...."


PFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTFFFFFFFFFFFAAAAAAARRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTPFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

He let rip with the loudest, nastiest, most stomach buggiest fart you could imagine..

...then continued without missing a beat...... "...and 75 percent."

My eye bugged out of my head and it took all the strength in my body not to jump out of my chair screaming.

In total glee and astonishment, I popped up in my chair and looked out at the room with an ear to ear smile and a look to say , " HOLY FUCKING SHIT !!!! " and everyone looked straight down. No one would make eye contact with me. During a pregnant pause I got the feeling that collectively they were all against me...no one willing to dare look up at me and acknowledge the ...well..the 400 lbs farting gorilla.. that was staring us all in the face.

Come one people !!! Gimee a little something !!! A smirk , a knowing glance, a giggle. Gimme something to work with.

And then they continued, " Great so we can used those number and apply them...." on and on as if nothing happened.

So they can deny the truth, they can live in a fantasy world, but I'll always remember the day....the day I almost saw the Fat Man fall.