My legs quivered as I suspended myself above the toilet bowl. No touching the seat! Just a careful pee session.
Then it happened. Gas slipped out.
Why. Do. I. Have. This. Problem.
I wiped myself and went through the motions of zipping, buttoning, adjusting and flushing. All that time passed and the putrid fart odor remained trapped in the stall.
The door swooshed open to announce the arrival of two co-workers. I stood exposed at the sink, obviously the only culprit.
One of them entered my stinky stall.
My stomach flipped. There was only one thing I could do.
Relief rushed through my body as a steady stream escaped my nether region. As my bum hovered precariously over the toilet, I heard the door swing open. Footsteps clicked and clacked until the very next stall door snapped into place.
What? Seriously? A billion open stalls in the empty bathroom and someone goes right next to me??
I scowled at the heels shuffling nearby on the floor. I held my breath and grimaced while squeezing my butt cheeks tight. Please please don’t fart. Why, oh why did I drink that cup of milk. Lactose intolerance is a real thing!
It might be someone from my departmemt. Heat scorched my cheeks and I felt a sweat break out. I finished peeing and patted myself quickly.
Panic set in as I worried about whatever accidentally slipped out earlier or worse – smell whatever odor they unleash from pulling down their pants.
Omg. Does my pee smell like coffee?? I tripped in my attempt to flush with my foot, fly out of the stall and wash my hands before the intruder could see who I am. Run!
I tore at the paper towel dispenser and bolted out the door just as I heard the stall lock slide.
Aaaaaaaand she’s SAFE!
That’s how they say it in baseball, right?
Don’t do it. Seriously, just hear me out.
Don’t fart in your thong. Does anyone realize what happens?
The sphincter protrudes against your thong. If you are anywhere near having to poop, say hello to the poop kiss left on your thong.
That is all.
I pushed open the door to my daughter’s room. As I strode toward her, she looked up at me sheepishly. I put my arm on her shoulder.
“Mom, I just farted.”
“Oh…I see,” I breathed out carefully, “then I shall only exhale.. ” How lucky I was, that I had not yet refilled my lungs.
My feet shuffled quickly backwards, still slowly exhaling until I spun to dart through the exit.
I made it!