Farting and Why I'm Such a Great Friend. The Elevator Story.

So Michelle wrote about farting in elevators today and it reminded me of something that happened years ago in Baltimore.

So we're staying at Inner Harbor with about 10 guys for our annual guys weekend. And my friend Flare had been farting* really bad. I'm talking clear the room, what crawled up you ass and died farting.

So the 10 of us are waiting for the elevator. He had just farted in the room - again - and we're still laughing about it. So the elevator door opens and it's almost completely full. Flare steps in and there's only room for one. The doors start to close. As the doors are almost shut and I point to Flare and say to the people in the elevator, "HE FARTED."

This made me laugh so hard because when the doors are shut, you can't turn around to the strangers in the elevator and say, "You see that's a buddy of mine, we're on a guy's weekend and we're just joking around here and........"

No. You just have to stand there like a dope and take the humiliation.

*For the record, this is the first post I've ever done about farting and I've been blogging over two years.