Farts

I just need a space to vent. This isn’t travel related in the least, but I had a wholly unpleasant experience today.

I was at the gym. I live in a relatively small town. We have a YMCA. It is the same one I went to when I was a kid. It isn’t great, but it gets the job done. So here I am, on the bike elliptical thing, watching an episode of You’re the Worst. If you have seen this show, don’t worry, I keep my phone close to me.

So, there I am about 15 minutes into my daily 30 minute torture session, and it hits me. This eye watering stench. A smell so acrid and offensive, I said “What the hell?” out loud. I have been defiled by the green cloud of an SBD.

I look around… who did this? Who just walked by my elliptical and laid this rotten egg? I have my suspicions, but everyone else is behaving normally, while I’m doing my best to stifle my gag reflex.

I get it. We are all here, bellies full of green protein shakes, exerting ourselves physically. Things happen. Sometimes these things melt the paint off the walls. Sometimes these things brutally molest the taste buds of our fellow gym mates.

But, let’s just try to remember, yes we are all wearing headphones (except the one guy who was watching super loud church on his phone with no headphones, but I digress). We may not HEAR your butt trumpet, but we can still smell.

A gym is already stench ridden enough. If you squeeze out a fart that is going to burn a hole in my nostril, please give a heads up. A simple, “My bad!” will do. Don’t just sit there, going along like you haven’t just atom bombed the place. It ain’t cool. My daughter insists that no one is going to do that, but what can it hurt to ask?

That’s really all I have or you today. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.