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I had this client who died a few months ago. He was morbidly obese to say the least. Anyways, I'd take him out in the community to help him with various tasks such as grocery shopping. His body was so oddly shaped in his stomach region. His belly hung down lower than it stuck out. It was like a giant fat-made cross between a leathery pouch and an apron. And it hung down, I shit you not, to his knees. When we'd go to a restaurant and sit in a booth, the table would be pushed towards me so closely to where I'd be feeling claustrophobic. And he would prop his fat apron-pouch on top of the table and stretch his upper back and neck frontwards to reach his food and eat it. When we'd leave, there would be grease stains all over the table from his stomach-pubic crevice region. It was so embarrassing and when I insisted to him that it was socially unacceptable to do it, he would become symptomatic, getting all shaky and shit and telling me he wouldn't be able to reach his food unless he did that.
I began taking him to Hy-Vee to eat every time we ate out (which was every time he went grocery shopping, so that worked out well). My original thoughts were that since they didn't have tables there, he wouldn't flop his belly thing on the table. I was wrong. And I encouraged him to try to eat at the table without putting his belly thing on the table and he became red in the face and became shaky and noticeably agitated and told me that he absolutely refused to eat like that because he wouldn't be able to reach his food.
I worked at that place with him as one of my clients (my primary client) for 5 years...I gave up on trying to get him to stop doing that after about 2 weeks of being employed there. So for 5 years, I was the guy in this town, who every Wednesday, shopped for groceries and went out to eat with this obese man, who obviously wasn't mentally stable, who would prop his fat, leathery apron-pouch belly on the table while he ate...leaving belly-grease marks behind when he left every...single...time. I wonder if people figured I was working or thought we were butt-buddies....?
This fat apron-pouch belly of his was visible to the public due to it hanging past his shirt. It reached his knees, no joke.
I heard this dude died roughly a month after I quit my job there. To be honest, I was pretty upset about it. I spent more time with that guy working on his personal needs affiliated goals, than I was able to spend with some of my own closest family members.
On a side note, this guy pooped his pants in my car literally countless times. It used to piss me off, but I got to the point where he and another client pooped their pants in my car so many times that I just became used to it and would ask calmly, "hey, did you poop your pants again?" They'd be honest with me if I asked calmly. I always made sure they helped me clean my car out every time it happened. The one client I chronicled in this post was always cool with it, but the other client would become all pissed off and act like they wanted to punch me if I insisted they help me clean their poop mess out of my car. Had to hold my ground on that shit (pun intended).
Now that I think back about it, man...I didn't realize how weird of a job that was while I was working there.
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