Yesterday evening, as I rode the 120 bus home from work to my Pigeon Ridge treehouse, the driver lowered his automatic lift around Albertson's Tires on Delridge

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Metrofatural

On Metro, make way for the morbidly obese.

Yesterday evening, as I rode the 120 bus home from work to my Pigeon Ridge treehouse, the driver lowered his automatic lift around Albertson's Tires on Delridge after a mother and daughter boarded using the normal stairs. Elevated into the coach was the third member of this family, a large thirtysomething man who weighed four bills, easy, but got around without the assistance of a cane, manual walker, or rascal (aka "Wayne Cody's Electronic Legs").

After the big guy was safely aboard, the driver promptly asked four riders, at least two of whom probably could qualify for AARP membership, to find a seat further back in the crowded coach to clear space for the large man and his family. This struck me as somewhat strange, as I was previously unaware that being incredibly fat was a condition that guaranteed the sort of priority seating thought to be reserved exclusively for the elderly and disabled.

Turns out, it's "not necessarily," says Metro spokesperson Linda Thielke. However, Thielke adds, "Maybe the driver knew this man and knew he had a condition." Yeah, maybe he has a thyroid problem. Or maybe he has a bacon cheeseburger probem. Suffice it to say, the issue is gray.

 
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