Did it ever occur to any of you that God gave us farts because he thought it was some type of hysterical, practical joke? C'mon now; gas out the ass...you know that shyt is funny. I know that already, at the ripe ole age of two, my nephew thinks that breaking wind is the funniest thing in the world. If he so much as gets a sniff of something not quite right his little butt is quick with the accusations.
Him: Uncle One Man, did you poot? Ewwww, you nasty. (Laughs his little butt off).
Me: Boy, didn't nobody poot. You the one who’s nasty. (More laughter, this time from both of us. Yeah, great role model. I know.)
My nephew is a nut and may I just say that he poots are not cute. Trust me.
Anyway, this is my embarrassing fart story...and believe me when I tell you that I've never had an embarrassing fart story. At least to one where I was the farter… Now, keep in mind that the only reason I am sharing this story with you is because the details that lead to my unfortunate passing of gas, in a public forum, has apparently already spread like wild fire throughout the station. While I was on my days off no less. Sgt. Lupe was nice enough to let me know that it was the subject of conversation, coming in second only to the officer that falsely reported his car stolen in order to collect the insurance money.
So, it is around 3:30am and me and Sgt, let’s call him Trisket, have just returned from eating at IHOP. He had the quick egg breakfast and I had the BLT and fries. Who knew that bacon gave me gas? That's ludicrous. Well, we are the only two people back in the Sergeant's area and I can feel the workings of a gas attack. Well, being the well-mannered gentleman that my mom raised me to be, I get up and leave the area, so I can pass my gas in private. Polite, right? Because you know some people act like you wanna fall victim to their gas attack. I know I use to ride with this female officer who would just let 'r rip with no fair warning. And she had those silent but deadly jokers that would attack all five of your senses, not just your sense of smell. You know that crap ain't lady like. And she wouldn't even acknowledge that she had done anything. She'd just keep on driving the squad car as if she hadn't just laid a dozen invisible, rotten eggs. And my dumb ass would be stuck, riding along with my damn head hanging out the window. I ain't lying!
Anyhow, once I have vacated the Sergeant's area, I head for one of the side doors, only to realize that I have forgotten my card that gives me access back inside of the station. Damn! Plan B it is. I'll just let it go in the detail room. It should be empty. While headed that way I am hindered by a female officer, from another watch. She has a question. Before she can say a word I hold up a finger, in order to let her know that I'd be with her in a second. I enter the detail room and I'll be damned if there weren't two officer's sitting in there, check there city email. Well, too late now, because I am trying to hold back one of those aggressive farts, that will not be denied. You know the kind that insist on making its presence know, whether you like it or not. The best I can do is clinch the cheeks and hope that I can suppress the sound and exit, stage left, before the smell engulfed the room.
So, I pass the gas. Now, that wasn't so bad. Silent. No odor. I go back into the main area to see what the officer, who I use to work with on a different channel, wants. She apologizes and says she could tell there was something on my mind. I come clean and let her know that it was not my mind that I was worried about and we both have a nice little chuckle. She didn’t really want anything of importance so I go back into the sergeant’s area, where Sgt. Trisket is completing paperwork. We had been discussing how I was going to use up a vacation day, since I came in on my Friday to help him out, even though I was maxed out on vacation time (I hate giving time to the City). The female comes around the corner and somehow we all get caught up in a dialogue regarding the farting habits of the human race. She tells Sergeant Trisket about our near fart encounter. At that moment I feel the urge to fart, again. This one is more powerful than the rest, the big brother to the one that I had treated so badly just moments before, and I excuse myself and try to run from the area. Before I can get around the row of cubicles good, you hear this loud trumpet of butt music. And I mean loud. I was so embarrassed, as I hear Sgt. Trisket and the female officer, burst out in laughter, that I actually blushed. People don’t think black folks blush, but we do. It takes a lot to make it noticeable, but it happens. Trisket and the female officer are cracking up, and so am I, because it is funny. Well, the incident was funny, the smell was not. Not only was this fart loud, it was funky. You know your fart stinks when even you are offended by it. You know how normally we are immune to our own farts, but not this bad boy. And besides that, it was that clingy kind of smell that followed you around, like your butt had a smell magnet attached to it. Oh, and to make matters worse, later on that morning, Sgt. Trisket found a web site with various ring tones and would play the fart tone one. You know that ain’t professional.
So, there you have it. My one and only embarrassing fart tell. So now you know I am wanting to hear a fart tell from you folks.
Do you fart in front of friends and co-workers?
Do you fart in front of your boy friend or girl friend?
When dating, when is it okay to share a fart with that special someone?
-One Man’s Opinion. Peace.
Just a side bar. TODAY IS THE ANNIVERSARY OF THE ASSINATION OF DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING. I know how inappropriate it is for me to tell a fart story on such a day.