Back in the late '60s and early '70s I used to have this one friend that I really enjoyed hanging around with. We had a lot of traits in common but, in many ways, we were very unlike. One of the more unfortunate ways was the fact he could be easily embarrassed. This, to me, was not unlike holding a red flag in front of a grumpy bull.
We used to work together at several different places. Since we worked together we also often went out to lunch together. One day for lunch we went to a Dairy Queen that had indoor seating. As we carried our trays toward the table we had chosen, I could feel a familiar feeling building up in my stomach. I have always said that I seem to fart a lot when I am hungry. I also fart a lot when I am full too, so I guess it really doesn't make any difference. Anyway I carefully worked it, building and holding, pushing and relaxing as my friend and I walked toward our table. One of the secrets of a good fart is to work it as much of it as you can. Accumulate as much of the pressure that you can and work it toward the end of you bowels. When you have worked and maneuvered everything that you can, and the pressure is all right at the end. push it out.
Just before we got to our table I had as much pressure as I was going to get so I let it rip. Some farts have a sound that could pass for a truck backfiring on the street or an air bubble in a water cooler. With a good one there is no doubt about what it is. It will be long enough to be identified and loud enough to catch attention. There are many different sounds that will qualify as a good fart sound. This one had that good bass sound like a tuba being played underwater. The resulting boom in the half full restaurant was very obvious, very easily identified. Everyone looked and my friend was in emotional pain. We sat down and began to eat, me with that feeling of success that I too often had for the wrong reasons. As we ate those greasy burgers and onion rings a girl came to the juke box that was next to us and deposited some money while choosing several songs. She walked away and her music filled the room.
Competition is more of a way of life than most people realize. There are the normal sports competition we all know about and competition in the work place. Women will compete with clothes and other items of apparel. I was going to compete with a juke bos.
When the music started my warped mind thought about the possibility of ripping one off that would be loud enough to be heard over the music. That would be good. So as the guitars played and the drums were beat I chewed, swallowed, wiggled my intestines and ripped off sounds that were almost, but not quite, loud enough to be heard over the Stones and the Doors. I kept eating and I kept pushing and I kept trying.
I looked at my friend and told him that we would have to go. He said that he hadn't finished eating yet and I still had food on my plate too. I told him we had to go. He said why and I told him that "I had shit my pants". I got up to leave and he started walking out behind me. Then I heard him moan in disbelief. I turned my head around as I carried my tray full of partially eaten food toward the garbage can and asked him what was wrong. He told me that the back of my pants was already seeping through. Oh well, I had wanted to embarrass him with another loud fart but at least I embarrassed him..