Major Retailers Guilty of Humiliating the Abundant!

2009 October 21
by mockers

jeansBefore I get started here, I want to thank Metten and Jim for allowing me to use this space to alert you all to an outrage, a shocking scandal that’s being completely ignored by the mainstream press.  This website is apparently one of the last outposts of truth in media, and I appreciate being allowed to access it.  I salute you, gentleman!

My story begins approximately three years ago.  At that time I was a relatively slim 190 lbs.  My young children kept me active, and I played first base for our company softball team.  I admit that I didn’t work too hard at it, but looked like a man who took care of himself.

Then everything spiraled out of control.  I developed an irrational (I now realize) fear of terrorism, and would eat to relieve the anxiety.  I thought my car was going to explode every time I turned the key, that my children would be incinerated on their way to school every morning, and that it was only a matter of time before someone walked up to my wife at the grocery store, said “Excuse me, ma’am?” and blew a handful of weaponized anthrax in her face.

So, I ate pizza and cheesecake.  And over the next eighteen months I went from 190 to 380 lbs.  I doubled in weight, but certainly didn’t double in height.  I was now a mound of always-in-motion blubber, with a set of hooters like something you’d see at the aging strippers’ retirement home New Years Eve party.

I’ve since undergone intensive therapy, and gotten past my fears.  I’ve also dropped 90 lbs, and am working to lose more.  It’s been a struggle, but I’m on the right path.

And that brings me to the outrage…

Because my weight has fluctuated so radically, I’ve been buying a lot of pants.  And I realized the fatter I became, the lower the stores stocked my sizes on their big wall o’ jeans.  Can you believe it?  Have you ever heard of anything so cruel??

When I was slim and trim, my pants were at a comfortable chest level.  I could just stroll in there, grab a pair, waltz to the checkout, maybe wink at a cute girl or two along the way, and buy the things without a hassle.

Then I put on a few pounds, and was forced to bend and stoop.  This sometimes caused my windpipe to pinch-off, and I’d nearly blackout.

And by the time I reached my top weight, it was ridiculous.  At that point I had to literally lie down on the floor to shop for jeans.  My size was stocked at the very bottom of the wall, near the carpet.

One time, in a Target store, I was having trouble getting back to my feet, and ended up rocking back and forth several times, like a turtle on its back.  Two smart-aleck twelve year old boys saw this and started HOWLING with laughter.  I had tears streaming down my face as the two disappeared into shoes, convulsing fully.

Another day, this time at a Wal-Mart, I bent over and the entire seat of my pants disappeared.  It’s true.  One second the ass-panel was there, and then it was gone.  I heard a ripping sound, and suddenly found myself with a large picture frame of humiliation, overlooking a set of sizable butt cheeks encased in dingy cotton.

Result:  I was completely mortified, and forced to buy even more pants.  So, the store that caused all this, was now also profiting from it.  Evil!  Pure evil!!

Why do they do it?  Why do retailers torment the Abundant in such a blatant way?  Common sense would seemingly dictate that the pants of larger men be stocked higher on the wall, instead of lower.  After all,we’re the ones who have difficulty stooping and crouching, not the spritely fools with 32-inch waists, and not a care in the world.

Are they watching us on security cameras, getting some kind of demented kick from seeing us roll around on their floors, struggling and gasping for air?  Is that it?  Are there videos available in the twisted underground, called Fatties Buying Pants 26, etc.?  I don’t know, and don’t care to find out.

One thing is certain:  I am currently in discussions with a lawyer, and we’re exploring the possibility of filing a class-action lawsuit.

So, please watch this space for further developments.  I’m confident we’ll soon be able to force an end to this most disgusting of practices, and finally bring large pants to chest-level, where we believe they should reside in any civilized, compassionate society.

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

L.L.L. Anderson

12 Responses leave one →
  1. 2009 October 21

    at least you can find pants. i’m 48/32. they just don’t make them that size. i can get 48/30 or 48/34 or 50/32 … but none of those will do!!!!!

  2. 2009 October 21
    Melissa permalink

    Great, great post, Jeff! You’re back! For awhile there it was repeats of ‘Posts of Yore’ but here’s a fresh pile for us.
    Perhaps a YouTube search of ‘Target Pants’ will produce mass laughter and hysteria. I will perform searches and let you know.

  3. 2009 October 21
    Brynhildr permalink

    It is nothing short of a hostile conspiracy to demoralize the American consumer. Ever notice that in the grocery store, the least nutritional, obesity-inducing foods are at eye level, screaming out to the Fat Man, “Eat me! Eat me!” But when said Fat Man needs a new pair of pants to accommodate his new heft, he is relegated to the bottom of the pile, so to speak. If he survives the attempt to retrieve a pair of pants from the bottom shelf, he is left winded and his spirit, crushed. “Hey, Lardass! You can’t even bend over anymore. You’re headed for a coronary if you don’t gain some control over yourself,” screams the bottom shelf. Conspiracy, I tell you.

  4. 2009 October 21
    Limey permalink

    They should put the gutlord pants in with the cakes.

    I used to have a deal with myself that I would never, NEVER, exceed 34/34. Looking back I was such a fool.

  5. 2009 October 21

    Its a conspiracy “big pants” is out to ruin everyone’s lives. Women’s pants and the allowable amount of margin when dictating sizes as it suits different brands is absurd. It’s like a moody drunken jilted ex boyfriend was in charge of what constitutes as what size. Sally is a solid size 10 but has pants the exact same width labeled as a size 15 and size 8, talk about a major mood shift!

  6. 2009 October 21
    kristin permalink

    “Fatties Buying Pants” = Japanese Porn

  7. 2009 October 21
    Zazu permalink

    The same is true with the industrial strength bilateral foundation undergarments!! They are hung, doubled up, on tiny ridiculous hangers (that only accentuate the massiveness amount of flesh they are designed to contain) and then they are relegated to the lowest spindle and always hung at the very back against the wall to make impossible to find the double alpha models (DD).

  8. 2009 October 22
    Phil Jett permalink

    Melissa, I don’t think this is Jeff (or were you being funny). I don’t think he’s been 190 in a while and I don’t think he has been 380 either or we would have heard about it.

    Then again, the thanks to Metten and Jim confuse me too.

  9. 2009 October 22
    Fat Secretary permalink

    AWG is that you?

    This even happens at the “Fat girl store”-where thankfully (there) I am still at the eye level range-but the poor size 26’s, that is soooo wrong.

  10. 2009 October 22
    AngryWhiteGuy permalink

    Not me Secretary, Even at 315 pounds (my heaviest ever), I could still see the jewels. I think at 380. they may have been hidden by a skin shelf or something.

  11. 2009 October 22
    Debra permalink

    Being in the large category (and my husband is also,) I hear you and I thought I was the only one who noticed such a travesty. In the larger women’s clothing I find when looking for clothes there are all kinds of smaller sized clothing stuck in my size selection. Sometimes there is absolutely nothing in my size located where it should be? How can this be? Also having the feet the size of your typical transvestite there are no shoes to choose from. Where do they get their stylish pumps I ask? I am on a weight loss program …again so hopefully I can find something to wear… someday.

  12. 2009 October 26
    Chuck in Belpre permalink

    You know I never tire of hearing ‘One man to a pair of pants!’ yelled by a passing jogger. You know the ones…smug…trim…calves like coiled snakes. Of course, they always look like they are dying of something awful…Pellagra or Ebola. Screw ’em, I say. Hand me those Chips Ahoy!

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