Tale Of The Biohazard Stink Bomb

There are times when we hear a story that makes our sides hurt from laughing. And while we’re busy “rotf” laughing our backsides off, we’re thinking, “thank goodness it didn’t happen to me.”

Recently, I received an email link to such a story. Not only did I rush to the nearest urgent care facility to get stitches for my split sides (just kidding); I learned that one must find the grace or humor in circumstances that are beyond one’s control.

If there were an award for “Most Embarrassing Moments”, equivalent to the Grammy’s, this story-in my opinion – is definitely destined to snag a trophy.

“I just got back from a trip to Puerto Rico. Yes, the pristine beaches and abundant local ‘delicacies’, provided temporary succor for me, from the crazy rat race of Corporate America. But, this short piece is not about my 5-day vacation. It’s about something quite humiliating that occurred to me, on that journey. The first leg of my trip from Los Angeles, to Tampa, Florida, was quite uneventful, and proceeded smoothly. However, the second leg was a tale of ha, ha, ha, horror. One that I’d probably never forget.

You see, as a chronic bachelor, I’m forced to eat what I cook – regardless of how terrible it may turn out to be. I had prepared some major amount of beans. What can I say, I love eating beans! Nonetheless, the mistake I made, was to eat copious quantities of it; washed down with two glasses of chilled, non-fat milk, the night before my travel.

When the first wave of gas threatened to explode from my you-know-where, I sat upright; bolt stiff. I tightened my sphincter muscles. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead (in spite of the fact that the plane’s interior was quite cool) until they coalesced into tiny rivulets that ran down my face. For some strange reason, there were about six passengers queued up to use the Loo that was closest to my assigned seat. And I just could not trust myself to take the ‘long walk’ down the aisle, to the next toilet. In my discomfort, I made the mistake of shifting my sitting posture. It was at that moment that all hell broke loose!

It wasn’t even a silent one. I heard the sound, and I’m sure most of the passengers seated across the aisle heard it too. It was a loud, short, “BAAAAAARP!” Now, ordinarily, if a loud one does not have the same aftermath of an SBD (silent but deadly), then, it’s not that big of a deal. But, guys, the only way to describe the smell that emanated…toss many rotten eggs in a bowl, mix with decaying fish and the funk of forty thousand years!

The stench almost brought tears to my eyes. As we all know, if the aroma of your own fart is unbearable even to you, then you can only wonder about its effect on other poor souls. Especially in an enclosed space! I looked around to see how others were taking it. My worst fears were confirmed. At first they tried to brave the smell, by pretending that it didn’t exist. Eventually they succumbed to the over -powering stench. They held their noses. Some fanned away frantically with the in-flight magazines. The middle-aged man, sitting across from me, glared at me menacingly, while he cupped his nose with one hand. A kid (about 5 years old) sitting behind me, who could take it no more, blurted out to her mother: ” Mom, what’s that awful smell?” I wanted to die. The shame and embarrassment of it all. Not to mention that they heard the sound coming from me. I buried my face in the novel I was reading. The smell hung around for what seemed like eternity. Then, the gas started building up, again. This time around, I was determined not to let it rip through. I made up my mind that I was going to get up and jump the queue, acting like it was a life or death emergency. Alas, to my eternal horror and damnation, in the process of getting up to walk to the toilet, I let out another one. A true SBD! I shoved, pushed and jumped the queue (with apologies) to get to the bathroom. I sat there for a while to let things settle back down. As I walked back to my seat-twenty minutes later-a flowery aroma filled the air. My guess? One of the flight attendants must have been trying to clear the air while I was away. It was then that I knew that it was quite clear to most of the passengers that I was the source of the evil smell. Needless to say, I spent the remainder of the flight in quiet shame and extreme embarrassment. I avoided eye contact with everyone, even up to the time of disembarkation.”

Is there a point to this story other than the obvious illustration that man is never really a worthy adversary for mother nature? You bet! Beans with milk is a deadly combo. A biohazard to the human race. Don’t do it! -;)

Wishing you a fantastic year 08!

One thought on “Tale Of The Biohazard Stink Bomb

  • smokeysmokey48238@yahoo.com · Edit

    Oh my goodness, those poor passengers. Well he has nothing to worry about. He will never get to see those people again, but they won’t ever forget him.

    Reply

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