If you disagree with this statement, then you’re lying to yourself: farts ARE funny. Seriously. Get into a packed elevator and let one slip. Not obnoxiously, just loud enough where everyone hears it. Then, out of the corner of your eye, try and look around. You’ll see several people smiling and a couple of others struggling to stifle a giggle. And, of course, you’ll have those scrunching up their noses in disgust, as though they’ve never been in the shower and made themselves laugh by letting out a butt flapper.
Yet, having stated the above, I can recall once when a fart, funny in the moment, ended up being life-changing.
I had been dating a woman for close to three years. During one of those years, at around Christmas time, we had gone shopping at a department store. I KNEW I shouldn’t have gone. My stomach was REALLY bad that day, those little stinkers sneaking out before I could stop them. Yet, like a precocious but slightly misbehaving child, I couldn’t help but smile at the joy they brought me. So, despite my better judgement, I headed out with the woman I loved and did the shopping thing.
Flash forward to the aforementioned department store. The lines were HUGE, so I got in one while she wrapped up the shopping. As I stood in that line, I saw she wasn’t that far away and I smiled lovingly. She returned it (which is always nice). And then it happened. One slipped.
My mind immediately began to race. I KNEW to my very core what this particular slippage meant. I had two choices: I could face it like a man, or sneak out of the way that that fart had. Unfortunately, I chose the latter. I looked at my girlfriend and waved her over. She approached, big smile on her face, silently inquiring, “What’s up?” Without hesitation I responded, “Could you take my place for a minute? I need to check something out.” Unsuspectingly, she agreed and I shot away.
Bear in mind, all of this played out in a matter of seconds. Enough time before the smell kicked in.
But then it did.
SHE was the first one to notice, her eyes beginning to bulge before they began to water. And THEN the guy behind her became aware, a look of nausea crossing his face as he looked down at my much shorter girlfriend, silently inquiring on whether or not she had just taken a dump in her pants.
And as if that wasn’t enough, the guy in front of her slowly turned his head to look at her with that same look of disgust on HIS face, though his expression seemed to ask if a corpse had inappropriately been placed in line.
To be honest, I’m not sure how much she paid attention to their looks. Her smile had long faded, she was motioning for me to get back over there; to assure these two people — whose sinus passages could very well have been permanently damaged — that what they were in the midst of experiencing was not her fault.
I wanted to help. I truly did. But I was incapable of doing so, because I had collapsed against a clothes rack, laughing my ass off. In fact, the only reason that I DID move was because, during those admittedly immature hysterics, another one got out and I needed to get away from THERE before it was too late.
Even then, while it was happening, I knew that moment would remain a source of laughter for years to come. What I DIDN’T suspect was that she wouldn’t be there to share it with me.
Now, I’m not saying that a single fart was the reason that the relationship didn’t go much further, but it certainly didn’t help. It did, however, teach me an important life lesson that I’ve adhered to all of these years later.
Think before you stink.
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