Icewind=Cool Farts or Farting Etiquette 101

Why is it wrong or rude to fart?

I have pondered this question for awhile now as I have gone through many different times with having plenty of “gas”. It has been that way as long as I can remember and my attitude has always been to “air it out”. The idea of holding things in to ferment and grow into this eye watering, gagging, and nostril burning being that takes a life of its own would not be good for anyone. I am not saying I fart anything that smells like a “springtime meadow” scent or anything but I do feel by ridding my system quickly the short term event is better than a long hanging cloud surrounding the area.

There have been times I get into trouble for being so open and “honest” in this condition and some wonder how I can make jokes at those uncomfortable times. I try to see the humor in this and not be totally embarrassed and that may be the point that others try to make with my actions. I at times just wish others would have the courage to “let her rip” if they so needed. We could have this worldwide movement, NO not a worldwide Bowel Movement, but this grass roots kind of thing. Everyone free from shame and ridicule to do what comes naturally.

I was in a meeting this week with about eight or nine others that looked about as interested in this meeting as I was. It was one of those you attend that helps further your contacts in the business community and to show you are interested in their association. But who calls a meeting at 7:00 am? It is done to let people attend and still make it to work at a normal time.

As my mind wandered in this early hour and I pondered the information being presented it started! It was that undeniable pressure beginning to build deep within my bowels. It made perfect sense to me as normally I would be in the restroom taking my morning dump at this hour. Instead I am sitting here listening to concerns and issues about the local labor force, getting contracts from all of the building going on here in Alaska and the cost of doing so. In my mind I am thinking “It’s going to be a possible problem getting a qualified labor force to do these projects,” when again that pressure, a tiny bubble just churned inside me. My first thoughts are I need to release it. Can I sneak it out without everyone noticing or possibly hearing it? Will it smell and if so will it be just a whiff of a scent or a real stinker? Will they know it is me or should I act like it is someone else?

I hate situations like this. Why must we have to hold in and endure the pain of what is natural. Why is it that my fart would be offensive to anyone? It is just an expression of who I am, it never tries to be offensive to anyone and only is mistaken by those that never see the beauty of this “thing” I created. We have come so far in today’s society in so many areas and in so many things yet this worldly function is so often overlooked. Why can’t we just say it is OK to express yourself and that farting is a natural function in life? I know that some of you agree with me. You have had that same urge or feeling and kept it inside trying to hide in the shame that will surly come if you let it out. Why must people look at you like some lowlife reject because you farted in a public place? It is not like one can control his or her bodily functions all the time and you are only trying to do what is natural.

Through watery eyes I look at the clock in my phone as I do not wear a watch and it is only 7:30. I can tell this is not going to be a fun thing or can be a really embarrassing situation shortly. I look over at one of the other people attending who is fidgeting around in his seat. Does he have to fart too, I wonder. I listen to the presentation trying to stay focused and not on the thirty things going off in my brain at this point. He could fart if he really needed to and we would probably never know. I sit here wondering if farting is allowed or ok in other countries or is this strictly an American custom to hold over people.

My cheeks are clenched as I hold back the massive pressure building within my bowels and working its way downward. I begin to sweat and that is hard to do in Alaska in the fall or early winter. Another person looks across at me and smiles. Does she sense this feeling coming over me or am I turning white or something is showing by my constant moving in my seat. I wonder if anyone notices I need to fart. Maybe there are others holding back a wet one as well and cannot wait to get out of here like I am. 7:45 am. My mouth is bone dry; I have chills, and now can hear the gas churning in my bowels. I wonder if they know. Maybe they think it is my stomach making all of this noise.

Why must we as a nation suffer like this? I would love to be in the aisle at Fred Meyer’s or Carr’s and just let one rip. I could walk away from the aisle and not feel badly for that next person who walks down to get his or her bag of Cheetos.

If it was more acceptable you’d have people walk by and say, “Good one” or “Who died and gone to heaven”? Instead, we fart in public we embarrassedly say, “Excuse me” as if we committed a crime or want to crawl into a hole so no one can see us. Imagine how liberating it would be to squeeze one out on a bus, or in an elevator and everyone would cheer your performance.

8:00. I had my chance to get up and excuse myself without too much fuss. It’s too late for that now. This once harmless little bit of air is now turning into a monstrous morning crap I can no longer deny. What did I eat last night that would make me feel this way? If I debate getting up any longer I will never make it to the restroom. Oh crap, where is it in this place? Will I find it before and accident will happen? Too many questions just MOVE IT NOW!!!

With my bung puckered, my only concern now is weather or not I can hold out and not crap in my pants while walking to the restroom. That would be really offensive to some people!

If I could have just farted when I needed to all of this could have been avoided.

I get up and everyone in the room is now looking at me. Of course, the door is on the other side of the room so I make my way toward it, excusing myself as I bump into people and their chairs. A woman I vaguely know looks up at me as if to say, “I knew you wouldn’t make it I have heard you before”. I hurriedly free myself from this group of “anti-farting” people (the mind plays tricks on you at this point) and make my way down the hallway looking for the solitude place I so desperately need. I see my place now, my freedom but it looks to be miles away. Do I try to run and risk a premature bowel release? No, act like everything is fine and go normally into bathroom. I head for the nearest stall loosing my belt and getting ready for what is to come. OH GOD, this one is full of paper and someone else’s dropping so I get to the next one and my pants are now around my ankles. I do that quick 180 degree turn, (I know you have been there before too) start my squat and before I hit the seat, a stream of liquid/solid crap explodes from my body. Relief at last! Man, did all that come out of me? I bet I just lost 5 pounds if I could have weighed myself before I started.

I say that we petition to make farting acceptable around the whole world and that no one is ever harassed from “cutting one” in public. I am sure that the president can fart anytime he wishes and no one says a word, except his agents giving him a little joking now and then. I would like to be able to fart in a public setting and hold my head high proud that I released my demons and was not ashamed. (I know some of you think I feel that way already) Think of a world where farting was an art form and people go out of the way to express it. A whole new world of topics and conversations would open and could be part of any peace processes or business negotiations. It could change our world.

Here I sit, spent, tired and weary from this most difficult trauma. The stench of what started as a harmless little fart has ended as a wet soupy semi-solid mix in the bowl beneath me. I wonder if they are saying about my absence in the meeting. I wonder if they are relaying what has occurred to anyone or they getting ready to send someone to check on me. I clean up with the pitiful excuse of toilet paper this hotel provides its guests to wipe their ass with hoping their savings goes to better food or something worthwhile. I compose myself for the re-entry back into the meeting which should be over by now. I exit the stall and notice the look on the faces in the restroom. A look as if I have somehow violated their space by crapping as I did. I start to wash my hands and notice how they quickly pee and get out of there some not even washing up afterwards. I wash my hands and look in the mirror as I realize the stench that was once a harmless fart has overtaken the room, I feel proud.

How do I spell relief?

F-A-R-T-S

Ice