Welcome To The Thunderdome, Troix: Farting
At the point that you are audibly passing gas in public without the least amount of shame, isn’t that a good time to reflect on your life?
What tier of disregard must you slip down to in order for life to mean less?
The following events happened to me. (I was the fartee. Not the fartor.)
I was visiting my local Half Price Books. Perusing a U-shaped set of shelves were me and an older, overweight gentleman. We were essentially side by side although we were facing opposite shelves.
Suddenly, he lets loose. It was as if he thought he were alone. Possibly at home. Or maybe in an effin’ bathroom (!!!).
It was out there, plain as day. The man farted. Off to his left, I turned my head toward him.
Not a knowing nod of apology.
No attempt to vacate the area.
Not even a slight tinge of embarrassment not only for doing it in public, but also for doing in front of me.
I glared straight into the side of his head with the common expression of “WTF?!”
He looked forward. Eyes unblinking and his countenance unchanged. He could have been waiting on a bus, or ready jump out of an airplane. I could have picked up a brick and smashed him in the back of the head, and I doubt he could have given two wits.
As abhorrent as that might be to the rest of society, this man acted nonplussed by the entire situation. It boggled the mind. I was sickened and I left the area. This man clearly had nothing to live for.
It’s becoming harder and harder to share this planet with others.
In the words of George Costanza, “You know, we’re living in a society!”