Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Misadventures on the Metro

chapter 39
I wish I had the shamelessness of a five-year-old. (Note that I said shamelessness, not maturity. I’m super mature – shut up!)

It’s no secret that certain odors cause uncontrollable giggles to rumble through my body (sometimes forcing unintended liquid to spurt from my nose).

(Am I overdoing the parentheses?)

But sometimes said odors do not inspire laughter. Sometimes they cause my eyes to fill with stinging, acidic tears. Sometimes the odors make my throat constrict, blocking my shallow breaths from reaching my pleading, desperate lungs. Sometimes they trigger my gag reflex and I feel the scalding burn of stomach acid at the back of my throat.

Let’s just say I wasn’t in giggle mode a few days ago.

I was, however, on the Metro, which may explain the problem. After 10 minutes on the train, I noticed a faint, sour odor. I mistakenly inhaled.

It was a fart.

A smelly, sticky, lethal fart. (Does toot work better for you? Sorry, this stinker was definitely a fart.)

The evil smell began to burgeon throughout the enclosed metro car, creeping up my nostrils and causing pools of sweat to puddle at my temples. In a matter of seconds I was enveloped in the gaseous cloud of death and began hallucinating as one does right before “the end.” Instead of seeing my life flash before my eyes, I was assaulted by swirling images of outhouses, rotten eggs, sewers and poop, all set to the soundtrack of rumbling rear noise.

I began wobbling back and forth as I fought unconsciousness. Somewhere through the thick cloud of stink a tiny garbled voice mumbled, “Doors are closing. Please move to the center of the car.”

I stumbled through the crowd and desperately flung my body toward the exit. Once in the station, I doubled over, gasping for air as the thick cloud slowly dissipated. I stumbled to the first escalator and rode until my legs regained their strength.

With my head cleared, I was suddenly enraged. Not only enraged, I was LIVID! I wanted to stomp back on board, channel my inner shameless five-year-old and call out the culprit. I wanted to point and scream, “YOU did it! YOU FARTED! You are SO GROSS!”

Then the remembrance of the smell overwhelmed my thoughts and I nearly tumbled down a 50-foot escalator. I quickly regained my footing and ran toward the clean fresh air, two stairs at a time.

Maybe next time I’ll just eat beans in advance and hope someone gets their dues.

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Holly said...

was john on the metro that day?

becky said...

Bahahahaha. Ha. Ha. Bahahaha!

Rachel said...

Oh I want to come to your Office Party!!!
And what was that teaser about meeting Noah?!?! I demand more info!!! I am already excited and hopeful!

Gel said...

I love holly's comment. yanni and I are here dying laughing. That was a great description!! We are missing you wish you were here with us. We would love you to join us next time.

Mom said...

I can't believe you told a fart story on your blog! Oh, that's right, why wouldn't you? We seem to have too many family stories like that. Mom

heidi said...

you are awesome. the end.

Devin + Sang + Chase said...

That reminds me of long, drawn-out conversations we've had in the past...one in particular when your hilarious family was visiting us in college. Amazing how one story inspires so many others! In fact, your recent experience reminds me of one of my piano students who shamelessly released several farts in a room that contained two people - him & me. Hmmm, I wonder who that smell is coming from...if you're going to fart in front of other people, make sure there are lots of other people around who you could blame it on...like the metro! (Sheepish smile) Sorry for the long post...

Ashley McNair said...

So funny Becky! I'm dying laughing!

Maegan said...

Laughing out loud! Sorry for metro stink.