Thou Shall Not Fart!!!

I have to admit. I’m not a good classmate. That I’d rather laugh at your silent yet gossip-provoking fart than to your greenest dry joke!

There was one episode of my boring college life that a girl, sitting beside me, just farted (pretty sure of that) and I suddenly gagged at her utmost desire to do it in class. I gagged as if my whole spaghetti lunch might blow out of me, and our closeted teacher came flapping our classcards over and pounded me on the back, and when I settled down, he said, “It’s not so funny, so go out from this class before I humiliate you!”

I just said sorry without him knowing what really happened. What an insensitive teacher!

My healthy interest in farts came about after reading Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon: Summer 1956 two years ago. I learned that there are ten kinds of farts- the silent but deadly, the slow leaks, the hissers, fizzers, poppers, croakers, bangers, cheek-flappers, tail-gunners, and cargo farts (the one that delivers a load; like a small dark of a fart such as an alien from outer space that might deliver to UP Mindanao, necessitating the evacuation of HH drivers, Ate Malou’s photocopy center… the one that could blow Chanci’s weird hairdo..lol) It really takes one time to ruin such campus icons.

And my classmates gathered around me, sensing, I mean hoping for something gory….perhaps for a hemorrhaging effect! Too bad, God didn’t bless them to have functional noses! All they got was pained expression from me. Then I was sent over the table with my teacher, talking about my homicidal behavior, and gave me a lecture about taking responsibility for my proper conduct.

And I realized that everything is matter of learning. “You didn’t mean to humiliate her, but you’re still responsible.” Whatever! Heaven knows, I meant it! That was an incredibly fascinating scene one couldn’t forget! Imagine, that was the worst fart I’ve ever smelled. It smells like a dead rat with rotten tomatoes and garlic as toppings. Lol.

And when I went home during a semestral break, I shared it to my mother. Unfortunately, she was disappointed and said, “What sort of UP student witness will you have if you go around talking like that?”

Then I answered, “Should I have lied and said I didn’t know what’s on my mind?”

She insisted, “You came from a catholic school. The bible says to avoid giving offense. And promise not to use that language again.”

I went out and waved and said, “Duh! I only use the word fart when one occurs!”