Talk has been a little too serious around here lately. Let me share what’s been bothering ME lately:
Last night I went for a walk around Lake Calhoun. I’ve really been slacking on my sprints lately, so I felt that, at the very least, I should go walk for a few miles. I’m heading into that time of year when I plan to bulk, and I’m really worried about turning into a fat-ass. A little preventative medicine now is definitely in order! But you probably don’t care about all that, and just want to know about The Man.
Anyway, I took a walk around 8 o’clock. I like going after dark because there tend to be fewer people around. This makes it easier to think about things, since there aren’t as many funny-looking people to laugh at. Plus, if I get bored, I can sneak around in the bushes and pretend to be Rambo.
So I was walking over the bridge that runs along Lake Street when I saw a guy coming towards me from the opposite direction. Now, the eternal question: what to do?
Don’t lie, we’ve all been there before. Do you make eye contact and nod your head? Smile? Say “Hi”, or “Hello”, or “Fuck you”? Do you look out across the water and pretend to be checking out the scenery? Or, worst of all, do you just look straight ahead and refuse to acknowledge their existence?
Well, at first I was going to go the eye-contact-and-nod route. However, it was towards the end of my walk, and I was hungry. Being hungry makes me crabby. So, I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. What did I do? Why, I opted for the final option: I just ignored him and stared straight ahead.
Well, he apparently found this offensive. Because about two seconds after we had walked past each other, he let one loose.
Now, I’m not talking about just a little “bleeerrrpp”, or a tiny little woopsie-tooter. No, his butt cheeks seperated, the hairs curled back, and he broke wind. I heard the back of his pants tear as his ass exploded. There was no mistaking what had just happened. He did it on purpose. He FARTED.
He wasn’t an old guy, or handicapped in any way that I could tell. In fact, I think he was a couple years younger than me. It was definitely intentional.
So then I started to wonder: was this aimed at me? Was he pissed that I thought the (no-longer) empty air was more interesting than him? Had he been holding it as long as possible, and just couldn’t take it anymore? Had he eaten the fajita burrito at Chipotle, and was now exploding at regular intervals (if that was the case, I hope he had some baby powder and a fresh pair of drawers at home, cuz damn).
I tend to think it was the first possibility. I think that fart was intended for me. I think that, miffed at my horrible rudeness, he decided to one-up me. Furthermore, I think he approaches all things in life this way. Doesn’t like where he’s seated in a restaurant? Let’s one slip. Pissed at the faulty brake job on his car? Rips one at the mechanic. Angry that prices on oranges went up AGAIN? Lifts a leg and blasts the Cub Foods cashier, right in front of the soccer moms and oxygen-toting old fogies.
And is that such a bad idea? Maybe not. I mean, think about it for a second: if you knew that the Incredible Farting Man was coming to your place of business, wouldn’t you go out of your way to deliver exceptional service, give a discount on your products, etc? I sure would.
Now pass the beans.