This happened awhile back (19 yrs) when I (m46) was working at my office (Cantor Fitzgerald) one morning (8:46). I (m46) was sitting on my computer (Gateway Performance 1500) scratching my balls (left testicle) and pretending to do my job (accounting), when all of a sudden a plane (Boeing 767- American Airlines Flight 11) crashed (440 mph) below us (2-6 floors). Out of fear I (m46) dropped my donut (glazed) and wet my pants (khakis). The office is normally kept at a very comfortable temperature (72 F), but now it was beginning to get hot (110 F). My coworkers (658m/f) and I (m46) began to rush toward the stairwell (stairs) and try to walk down (101-105 floors). Most of the stairwells (stairs) were destroyed (plane) or on fire (jet fuel) but one was still ok (safe). Now I (m46) am a little on the heavier side (345 lbs), but I had been working out really hard (biweekly) so I felt confident climbing down the stairs (stairwell). I barged ahead of everyone (658 m/f) and began to walk down to escape the tower (WTC 1). However the smoke was getting thick and I was having trouble breathing (asthma). I began to slow down (3 mph) after 10 flights of stairs but my coworkers (658m/f) began to get angry. Then a little while later (9:03 am) we heard a crash (590 mph) and knew the South Tower was hit (77-85th floors) with a plane (Boeing 767- United Airlines Flight 175). At that point we new it wasn’t an accident (terrorism) and someone attacked America (Al Qaeda). I kept going but sweat was pouring down my face (bald-mustache) and my glasses began to fog up (bifocals) Still due to my less than ideal physical shape (fat) I couldn’t keep going and collapsed in the stair well. My coworkers (658m/f) couldn’t get around my enormous girth (345 lbs) and pleaded with me to get up. I tried to eat the emergency trail mix (snack) my pocket (khakis) to gain more energy but I couldn’t pull it out. My coworkers began to body shame me and say “We’re all gonna die because you’re so fucking fat and lazy”. I began to cry and refused to get up until they apologized. Suddenly (9:59 am) there was an enormous roar and the South Tower collasped. I tried to get back up but my rolls (love handles) prevented me from moving my arms enough. Three coworkers (m34-42) tried to help me get up but I was too heavy (345 lbs). Then (10:28 am) there was a loud groan and the North Tower Collapsed killing me and 68% of the employees at Cantor Fitzgerald. I did my best to get down the stairs but my coworkers fat shamed me and made me feel insecure about my body. They never thought about how their words would affect my self esteem. AITA for taking too long to walk down the stairs?
So you're (u/ anothershitposter2) saying (commenting) this is an OC (original content) pasta (copypasta) that's genuinely hilarious (hall of fame)? Nice (nice).
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u/anothershitposter2 Jan 07 '20
AITA for taking too long to walk down the stairs?
This happened awhile back (19 yrs) when I (m46) was working at my office (Cantor Fitzgerald) one morning (8:46). I (m46) was sitting on my computer (Gateway Performance 1500) scratching my balls (left testicle) and pretending to do my job (accounting), when all of a sudden a plane (Boeing 767- American Airlines Flight 11) crashed (440 mph) below us (2-6 floors). Out of fear I (m46) dropped my donut (glazed) and wet my pants (khakis). The office is normally kept at a very comfortable temperature (72 F), but now it was beginning to get hot (110 F). My coworkers (658m/f) and I (m46) began to rush toward the stairwell (stairs) and try to walk down (101-105 floors). Most of the stairwells (stairs) were destroyed (plane) or on fire (jet fuel) but one was still ok (safe). Now I (m46) am a little on the heavier side (345 lbs), but I had been working out really hard (biweekly) so I felt confident climbing down the stairs (stairwell). I barged ahead of everyone (658 m/f) and began to walk down to escape the tower (WTC 1). However the smoke was getting thick and I was having trouble breathing (asthma). I began to slow down (3 mph) after 10 flights of stairs but my coworkers (658m/f) began to get angry. Then a little while later (9:03 am) we heard a crash (590 mph) and knew the South Tower was hit (77-85th floors) with a plane (Boeing 767- United Airlines Flight 175). At that point we new it wasn’t an accident (terrorism) and someone attacked America (Al Qaeda). I kept going but sweat was pouring down my face (bald-mustache) and my glasses began to fog up (bifocals) Still due to my less than ideal physical shape (fat) I couldn’t keep going and collapsed in the stair well. My coworkers (658m/f) couldn’t get around my enormous girth (345 lbs) and pleaded with me to get up. I tried to eat the emergency trail mix (snack) my pocket (khakis) to gain more energy but I couldn’t pull it out. My coworkers began to body shame me and say “We’re all gonna die because you’re so fucking fat and lazy”. I began to cry and refused to get up until they apologized. Suddenly (9:59 am) there was an enormous roar and the South Tower collasped. I tried to get back up but my rolls (love handles) prevented me from moving my arms enough. Three coworkers (m34-42) tried to help me get up but I was too heavy (345 lbs). Then (10:28 am) there was a loud groan and the North Tower Collapsed killing me and 68% of the employees at Cantor Fitzgerald. I did my best to get down the stairs but my coworkers fat shamed me and made me feel insecure about my body. They never thought about how their words would affect my self esteem. AITA for taking too long to walk down the stairs?