First off, a fact: the average person farts twelve to eighteen times per day, so those of you prissy people out there that are pretending like you’ve never broken wind: shut it. I know you’re lying.
Several weeks ago I went in for my annual exam. I know, you’re thinking, Buster, your hoo-haa is your business, don’t tell me about it.
I’m not going to. But I am going to tell you that my doctor suggested I begin taking a fiber supplement. She warned me that I would be a bit gassier than usual for the first few weeks I was on it.
She was not kidding.
(My college roommate is all: gassier? How is that possible?)
So, I’m taking my fiber supplement. And dealing with the consequences.
One morning last week, I got to work before the rest of my coworkers, other than my assistant, who I don’t think ever goes home. I’m usually here before the rest of the attorneys because I’d rather come in early and leave at 5 than come in at 9:30 and stay until 7.
So, I had the run of the office.
I noticed the lilies MJ sent me for my birthday need some trimming, so I got out my scissors and started snipping away, my back to my office door.
And I let fly the loudest fart in the history of the world.
And then I hear it. A throat clearing from behind me. My boss (one of five, actually) was standing in the doorway to my office.
“Buster,” he says, “I need to go take a deposition today, and while I’m gone I need you to do some research and draft a memo for me.”
I had to stand there, red-faced and embarrassed, and take notes regarding the information he needed.