Classical Gas

The unfortunate truth to life is that we get older. My Uncle got older, as many tend to do, and needed to be in a physical rehabilitation center. He had suffered from a heart attack, and needed to stay for a couple of months. I was still a teenager at the time, and would go along with my mother from time to time to visit him. This particular time that I am going to tell you about, my mother’s friend, whom I call “Mom #2”, was with us.

This particular hotel did not offer private rooms to the patients, and so my uncle shared his room with another patient. I am not sure now if can recall the reason that this person needed to stay here and was given the neighboring bed, but I do recall that he was quite loud. This man was in pain. Horrible, gut wrenching pain.

He was moaning, groaning… screaming from the depths of his soul, it was terrible. We thought to call the nurses to his aid, but they had already heard his cries and were coming into the room.  The nurses were not able to help. Still, he continued to cry out in pain. We were all helpless. What demon had ahold of this man’s abdomen?  What horrors were happening inside of his gut? Filled with sympathy for this poor man, we stood by my Uncle’s side, wondering if he will ever find peace. 

It was about this time that the neighbor’s suffering came to an end. Finally, his cheeks had parted as if Moses himself had placed his staff at the top of this man’s crack, and the air of hostility that had held his bowels captive escaped. The rush of air that comes whipping through the trees just before the rain from the hurricane comes pelting down to the earth.  There was no control over it. There was no way he could have eased it out slowly. No, this was a full on stampede of toxic air.   

It was the longest, loudest fart that I had ever heard in my 16 years on the earth.  It is still the longest, loudest one that I have ever heard, and I am now 36 years old.  Twenty years I have listened for something as impressive as this was, and have yet to find it. A sound of that grandeur cannot be imitated. It is special, indeed. There has been no other that has shook an entire building.  None have out-lasted the length of the Gone with the Wind movie, while his pain was, ironically, gone with the wind.

The Majestic Art of the Epic Fart

After the orchestral masterpiece had faded away, and earth was no longer shaking.  Our dear neighbor’s pain was gone. The residents on the floor of the building had gone silent, most likely because they were temporarily deaf from the sonic boom when the jets flew out of his bum and broke the sound barrier, leaving a trail of green clouds in their wake.  The silence was broken by his soft, sweet, tender, and Oh So Joyous sigh of relief. Ahhhhh!  

It was at this point that Mom #2 and I looked at each other, shocked, mortified, and ready to burst into laughter. We knew that laughing at this poor man’s relief would not be appropriate, so we left the room quickly. In the hallway, we started to giggle, but the giggles couldn’t be contained and grew louder still.  We hurried down the hall, to the elevators.  We pushed the button for the down elevator, we got into the elevator, and once the doors had closed, we let out the loudest, longest fit of laughter we had ever laughed.  Well, that’s not totally true, we laugh quite often, and usually loudly. Sometimes we laugh so hard, that we ourselves, end up tooting out in true putt-putt fashion.  And then we laugh even more.

So that is my story about how I had to quickly leave a physical rehabilitation center, because someone ripped a big one.