Thursday, March 12, 2009

Gas Fit For Passing

If you're looking for a high-brow blog entry today, you're in for quite the disappointment. This story is about gas.

All this week I've done nothing to help my runny-bowelslexia. From Sunday, eating nachos just before midnight; Monday, yogurt and coffee cake; Tuesday, Hooters massive wing overload; Wednesday, spicy ramen noodles and Yogurtland; Today, cereal with milk, this is not good for my quasi-lactose intolerance.

And so, each day riding home on the train from work, I've been in agony holding the gas in. It's torturous because in such a small enclosed space such as a train cabin, I don't want to embarrass myself by being the one who dealt it. But let's face it, you can't always keep it bottled inside. Sometimes there are some like the jaws-of-life that rip open your cheeks and soar like uncaged falcons.

So here's the strategy: When a fart comes a-knockin', I feign sleep and let it rip quietly. If I'm playing my iPod, I pause the song or lower the volume so that I can hear the successful silence. I feel bad and pray that nobody smells it, but I'm sure people do. I mean, the way the chairs are situated, someone is sitting directly behind me on a seat that's attached to my seatback.

But most of the time I hold it in, which makes me feel sick. Sometimes even, when I'm asleep on the train, I wake up just in time to clench my bum and block the gas from becoming a fart. It's nerve-wracking thinking about how close I've come to total dignity destruction.

Anyway, today, a really fat man sat next to me (and across from Timotei). I really had to be on my best behavior with the guy sitting right next to me, so I held back in pain. Every once in a while a fart would escape and became the source of my shame. I felt so bad when that happened.

At the next stop is when 75% of the passengers detrain the train. There were several empty seats everywhere in the car... so why the hell were three guys cramped in so closely together in a four-seater. Maybe the guy was too fat to move, I have no idea. But it pissed me off! Seriously, the guy was so massive that he spilled over into my seating area and also invaded Timotei's space. We had claimed the seats first! He should have moved to a different spot!

I was pissed, so my source of shame suddenly became my weapon. I let 'er fly. I let 'er rip as long and sloppy as I could. I'm not sure if it was the attack that was so gratifying or maybe it was just because I was unloading all the toxic gas, but it felt GOOOOOOD.

But you know what? It still did not chase him away. Maybe it was because my passed gas was a step up from his usual odor, I don't know! But when we reached the next station and he still didn't budge, I had to bail. I got up and moved to a wide open space. Anything that happened after that was completely inconsequential. Though I do feel bad as I write this out.

My story does end happily however. I got to the toilet with time to spare and truly unloaded what ailed me. I may have to reload soon for a future sneak attack. You'll never know what hit you.