In an otherwise abandoned gate, I am sitting directly across from a man who is skyping loudly with his large family—Haley, Griffin, Benji and Dana at least—about his stomach troubles. I learn what the man ate for breakfast, lunch and dinner last night. Dinner was good—steak!—and though it wasn't "that much food," he felt "just stuffed."
Then, "I went back to the room and just farted up a storm. It felt great."
I’m a-gassed.
But we shouldn’t be surprised by such boorish behavior. Whether at the airport, supermarket, train or on the street, hardly a day passes without someone chatting up a storm on their phone, tablet or whatever, with their personal volume cranked up to max.
If only they were interesting!
What’s interesting are the rules that people make for themselves. They’re not willing to fart resoundingly in an nearly empty airport gate area … but they’re willing to talk at top volume about farting “up a storm.”
Reminds me of this:
‘If I’m in a restaurant and I’m eating and somebody says, ‘Hey, mind if I smoke,’ I always ask, “No, mind if I fart? It’s one of my habits. Yeah, they got a special section for me on airplanes now. I quit once for a year, you know. But I gained a lot of weight. It’s hard to quit, you know? After sex, I really have an urge to light one up!’ Steve Martin