I have been away from Poal for awhile, but the experiences at my workplace have reminded me of this place so much. I am an assistant manager at a popular pizza place. First I will say there is the deliver driver position that seems to be a magnet for the fattest of fats. What's better than a job that involves sitting on your ass most of the time. I guess desk jobs would involve even more sitting, but those are probably a little harder to get. I would assume people like dentists and lawyers get to choose a secretary and are inclined to avoid ham planets. Some might tolerate a chubster. Out of 11 female drivers, 8 of them would easily be called fat by ordinary people. One of them is oddly-shaped, like someone who got older and got somewhat fat. Another was fat and actually lost weight.I see her eating salads now. There is only one that is thin. There is a total of 4 on the planetary scale. The guys have actually managed to be 3 out of 6 not fat with only one ham planet. They don't tend to be that annoying since most of them are gone. Although, the ham planet guy is older than the ladies and just has that unhealthy sound to his breathing like he could keel over anytime. He also falls asleep in his car and ends up sitting or leaning and not working. It's managers, who function mostly as pizza makers, I'd really like to talk about. Well first there's Z who has been with the company for 7 years. So he's actually managed to acquire excellent dough stretching skills and speed. Because of his dough stretching ability, he is usually out of the way, but it's awful trying to get past him if needed. He's got that pear-shape that's got his ass sticking out so much that it's difficult to get by without contact. Then there was J, who thankfully has left. She had a bad attitude and such blatant fattitude. No matter how fat she got, she couldn't possibly stop consuming corn-syrup-laden Dr. Pepper. Apparently, something in her diet was really messing her up inside, but of course, she couldn't possibly attempt to find out what and stop consuming it. So she'd have a toilet emergency and have to make 1-3 trips and spend about half an hour each time. It's the middle of the dinner rush, and she's on the fucking toilet. She's in her twenties and popped out one kid, but I would say she's destined for planetary status with her, "I can't change," fattitude. Then there's D who shared with us the awful fact that he used to be over 300 pounds (136 kg). He has somehow managed to restore himself to human size but now has excess skin folds. He also manages to smell like burnt tar most days. The store manager thinks he doesn't shower, but I interpret this as being some internal dysfunction like the same way the smell of alcohol is an internal thing. Now finally, there's the big, fat, fruity, gorilla thing that's being considered for the position. Working with this thing is so bad, I want to quit. The thing is a loud, obnoxious clown and when it comes to speed has no ability to move fast. When it goes to put things in the oven, it waddles. Being on a make line, there is often reasons to go around someone for something, and going around this thing is almost as bad as going around the whole pizza oven. I would not even consider this thing for the position just based on how fat it is. Apparently, the store manager is too nice or just pretending in order to be nice. Also, the position seems to be not too popular, so we don't have a lot of options really. I'm off to work on finding another job.