Sometimes it just slips. We have all had a little squeaker at in opportune time. Maybe, purposely ripped one in your colleagues office and shut the door on your way out. But what would ever possess a person to knowingly blast off next to me in an airport terminal? Why?
We aren’t talking about an 80 year old lady accidentally making balloons out of the ankles in her panty hose or the giggle toots after a good belly laugh. We are talking about a lifting a cheek off the chair and straining stomach muscles kind of premeditated ass launch designed only to shock and awe. He looked like an average middle-aged joe sitting only a chair length away from me. After he expelled his flagitious flatulence he simply glanced over his shoulder in response to my sudden outburst of “What the fuck!”, turned away saying nothing. No “excuse me”, no “sorry”, no “I have cronic intestinal problems and things like this can’t be avoided”. Nada.
This is why flying is no longer enjoyable to me. I hope he gets hemorrhoids!