An Open Apology To The Man in My Fart-Filled Elevator
Dear Suspiciously Serious Neighbor,
I was the one with the Bernese Mountain Dog who got in the elevator with you on the top floor. You were going to the first floor and so was I, a ride that takes a solid ten seconds from start to finish. You commented on how cute my dog was and I thanked you, and then we rode in silence for a couple seconds... until it happened.
My dog let out the raunchiest, loudest release of flatulence you've likely ever heard in person. It started out wet and flappy, and I immediately blurted out a sheepish apology on her behalf in an attempt to make it clear I was not the source of this air-borne health hazard. You responded with a slight nod but kept your eyes forward. Meanwhile, my dog's fart had not yet ceased. She continued her proclamation of impending doom, her toot evolving from its sloppy start to the subtle, elongated "phew" sound of the infamous SBD.
At this point, I can no longer retain the unfortunate fact that I am unable to keep a straight face when I am present for a fart. I think they are the. funniest. thing. on this green earth, right alongside cats attempting to jump off things and instead plummeting straight down with stick-straight legs stretched out behind them (see: Cat Sail Video). Given the long-form expression of her pent-up internal air, I could not possibly hold in my laughter at the situation any longer and let out a giggle akin to a tickled child in church.
My stifled giggles harmonized flawlessly with my dog's finale of her Ode to Odor: three abrupt, staccato "mweep!"s that topped the cake of our delectably awkward elevator ride. I was bursting at the seams with regrettable guffaws. In contrast, even as she turned her head, startled at the sound her own butt was making and SNIFFED THE AIR BEHIND HER, somehow, impossibly, you remained stoic and unphased. The elevator hit the bottom floor and for the moment before the doors opened, I made one last feeble attempt to turn a mortifying experience into a hilarious comedy routine by urging the door to slide open before my animal's stench drowned us The Abyss-style. You stayed silent.
Upon further reflection, I would like to apologize on behalf of both my pet's incessant flatulence (I should probably investigate that) and for my own inevitable, albeit childish response to the situation. But also: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?
Best wishes and I hope to never again share an elevator with you,
Your Immature Neighbor