October 16, 2008
One time when I was a sophomore or junior in high school, I had a memorable farting experience. At that age, I had never pooped in school. Heck, I don’t think I had ever pooped away from home. I had a major fear of pooping in a non-home setting.
One day, I was having quite a problem with stomach pains. I was used to having gas and holding it in because I ate Raisin Bran for breakfast. But this intense pain in my gut was more than just gas. It was nearing the end of the day and I still had soccer practice to attend, so I realized I would need to poop at school to get rid of the problem.
But I couldn’t just go into the bathroom and poop. Someone would see me, hear me, and probably smell me. The perceived embarrassment would be mortifying. So I waited until the last class ended and waited some more until most of the people cleared out of the halls and got on their buses. I went to a bathroom that likely didn’t have many people around and went in to do my business.
What happened in that bathroom that day was unforgettable. I went into a stall, pulled down my pants, sat on the toilet, and prepared to let loose. The pain in my stomach was constant, so I was anxious to take a nice big fat dump. I started to push, but instead of having a solid log slide out of me and into the toilet, I produced the loudest sound that has ever come from a human body. This fart was loud. The concrete walls and metal stall doors only increased the volume. I laughed at myself, at my amazing ability, yet quietly wondered if anyone had heard me. No voices in the hall. Whew. It was just me, alone in a stall in a high school bathroom, laughing at the fart that just exploded out of my body with the force of a million jet engines and the volume to boot.