It was an all night flight. Yes, I couldn’t wait for the moment we would arrive all crispy and prickly with the two days of jet trash built up on our skin from that big flying fart in the sky.
Planes. The only place where farting isn’t really avoidable and somewhat tolerated. Why? There is nothing you can about it. Personally, I don’t like talking about farts which is why it always amazes me at how many people do. What intrigues me even more are people who laugh (and I am talking a full on LOL-hardy-every-one-can-hear-you-laugh funny. I guess, to some degree they are funny but not when you trapped in a giant metal box and the only air you can breathe is someone else’s gassy discharge.
What’s funny about them, to me, is that moment when they are realized, especially by someone you know. You’re sitting there and all the sudden the waif of air comes into your olfactory sense. You automatically look to the person you know, sitting beside you like “did you do that?” They usually affirm with a head shake one way or the other. If it is a “no” headshake, it is followed by a look of disgust, as if to say, “Me? No!”. If the “yes” headshake happens it is typically followed by a smile and giggle, as if to say, “Yea, I did that”.
Now you, being the person sitting them, knows you now must give a response back of either disgust or, in some cases, a smirk with a no kind of head shake. (I must note that in some rare instances it is okay to give the latter, especially if the person in back of you has been kicking your seat the whole time and you are too polite to say anything because after all they have six kids and paid for three seats only.) Then feeling happy about a fart in the air from the people in your party is totally acceptable.
Not that that has ever happened to me, though.