Chapter 6 - life of pie

Oliver retraces his steps to see what is causing Dylan’s trance and shit eating grin. The ruby red cart is tipped over on the left side with the calorie enriched, nutrition stripped goodies spilling out including a tub of ice cream rolling towards the end of the aisle. Several two liters of soda move on the other side of the floor fizzing up in their plastic bottles. Boxes of candy liter the aisle. Everything spread out across the tiled floor is void of any nutritional value. The unfortunate morbidly obese man is on his worn out hands and knees. The position exposes his big sweaty ass crack as his pants slide down.

“Oh, shit,” breathes Oliver heavily.

Oliver jogs over to ground zero. “Sir! Are you okay? Let me help you! Dylan, come here and help.”

Oliver places his one arm under the man’s left arm. Dylan takes his time trying to hide his erection. He follows Oliver’s lead and puts his arm under the man’s right arm. Together they try to hoist him up, but the efforts are futile. The man cries out in a country accent “Ah cain’t get up.”

Oliver thinks it might be helpful if they try lifting him up by the waist. They both reposition themselves. Oliver sweats and tries to pull the man up. His hands sink into the morbidly obese stranger’s fat rolls. He’s just too heavy and bloated to properly grab onto and lift for two people.

The man grunts from the pressure of his body on the hard floor. “Halp,” he shouts. Oliver hears the held back tears in the man’s strained voice.

Oliver jogs through the aisle to try to find an employee. A few aisles over he notices an employee in a red vest. Oliver moves toward him breathlessly, his fat jiggling. “S-sir. We need your—,” he gasps. He realizes just how out of shape he is as he takes a moment to catch his breath. Maybe Dylan is right: exercising might not be worth the struggle at this point. He looks at the employee’s name tag. Oliver continues “w-we need your help Sam. A man fell and he can’t get up!”

“This happens all the time to the elderly. I can help,” invites the employee.

“He’s not old. He’s, uhm,” Oliver pauses.

“He’s what, sir?”

“He’s overweight. Well, morbidly obese. He’s the largest person I’ve seen outside of a TLC documentary. I’m thinking in the mid-six hundreds,” says Oliver with both hints of fear and excitement in his voice. So much for Oliver’s respect for obese people he shamed Dylan for earlier. Sam pauses for a brief moment trying to determine a plan of action given the details of this man’s extreme weight.

“Oh, I see. Which aisle?” asks Sam with a little disgust.

“Aisle 11 in the grocery section.”

Sam begins the path toward aisle as he calls in the order to the central office. Oliver gets frustrated at the entire situation. There is a man trapped on the floor and Sam is taking his time. Oliver keeps quiet though because he knows that he’d be out of breath and on the floor himself attempting to run back to the scene. It scares him, but also excites him at just how unfit he is becoming in such a short amount of time.

They make it back to site. The obese man on the floor is now on his back. His breathing is raspy. Candy wrappers litter the ground. The man brings an unwrapped candy bar up to his mouth. He chews making his fat cheeks puff out more.

Oliver walks over to Dylan and angrily whispers “How did he get that candy, Dylan?”

“What? He said that he thought his blood sugar might be low. He said he was hungry and weak. I wasn’t trying to feed him on purpose. It’s not like I’ve been shoving candy bars into him like quarters into a heavy piggy bank. Please don’t be angry with me. Look how comfortable I’ve helped make him,” whispers Dylan back.

Oliver’s head spins. Perhaps Dylan has a point, but the whole situation is odd. Another employee shows up. His name tag indicates his name is Jeff. Jeff is shocked to see this man’s monstrous gut.

He speaks into his walkie talkie “got that forklift and pallet? We’ve got a beached whale here.”

Sam thinks for a moment. “I think it’s best if we just call EMS. He could be seriously hurt and I’m not about to get my ass sued.” Jeff agrees while Dylan turns red realizing the liability of having given the enormous man chocolate while he was on his back. The group of five wait for the professional crew to move the puddle of flab off the floor. Fourteen minutes later a team of eight people show up in the aisle. Oliver thinks eight is a bit too much. Several of them gasp.

“Sir can you tell us how this happened?” asks the leader of the pack.

“Ah jus wanted mah soda. They done put it on the top shelf. How m’ ah s’possed to reach em? So ah tried ta get up n’ now look at me. I have the diahbeetus. Mah feet are numb n’ slipped out from under me. Ah somehow knocked over the scooter when ah fell,” he replies with a sting in his voice.

“Can you get up on your own?”

“Would y’all be here if I could?”

Dylan looks over at Oliver. Oliver’s stomach churns and his heart races. His face is going pale. Dylan thinks this is strange. Maybe this was too much for Oliver and way too soon. Dylan observed over the past few months that Oliver is anxious when he isn’t eating or high. He tries to find an excuse to help Oliver manage his emotions.

“Oliver, we still have pies to get and there are spoilables. We should really leave,” says Dylan.

Oliver nods. He zones out. He doesn’t remember much, but Dylan loading their cart with other things they would need for shakes and some other goodies like cakes and pies. He wonders what will happen to the man. They check out and go to the car. Dylan puts the groceries in the trunk. Oliver is still zoned out.