Jumping Jacks

You know how when you're in little league football and every day at practice you do jumping jacks to warm up? Those who played know what I'm talking about when I say that you can't do jumping jacks and hold in your gas at the same time; you basically rip it every time you split your legs wide for the jack. Well, today I experienced a similar experience at work, speaking of the need to rip it, not speaking of anything related to spreading my legs or doing jumping jacks; that was just a reference.

So I don't really know what came over me or what I was thinking, but I was sitting at work this afternoon and I guess I just decided I either couldn't or wasn't going to hold it in any more. I proceeded to rip a GIGANTIC, loud and proud fart, followed up by a quick toot to polish it off. As soon as I ripped it, I froze, realizing that I was NOT alone nor sitting in the comfort of my home. I was at work, in a business environment, supposedly being professional. My co-worker sitting across the table from me froze as well. He looked up with a stunned face, "Did you just. . . Did you just do that on purpose?!"

What could I say? I hesitated for the briefest of moments before acknowledging my flamboyant rip, "Yes, I did just rip that and I apologize."

He hesitated, "Hmm, So that just happened. Wow." He seemed to shrug it off after that, but I'm pretty sure he will never feel completely comfortable around me again.

I had to get up for a meeting right after that and I couldn't stop laughing. I had to bite my lip so hard it almost bled. The problem isn't that I was laughing, it's that people ask you, "Why are you laughing?" Then what? Tell them you just ripped a giant bomb in the conference room and left your coworker in there to suffer the consequences? No, you're just screwed if you get asked. Luckily, I was successful in avoiding any questions but I did get a couple weird glances as I continued to laugh/bite my lip ferociously.

So what did I learn from this experience? Apparently nothing, as I sit down 30 minutes later after my meeting and immediately proceed to rip an equally high-decible blast. It was like I was sitting on a whoopie cushion, only it wasn't a whoopie cushion and these farts were definitely the funk. My coworker didn't verbally acknowledge the flatulence but I did catch him cocking his head toward the ground in that, "What in the world is he doing!" grimace. I'm sure if not from the sound but from the putridity reaching his nostrils. The answer is, "I don't know"