Monday I had to take a trip to MS for business travel. With the recent snowy weather, the airport was packed with people rebooking delayed flights. My original flight was delayed for 3 hours, but miracously was changed to only having a 30min delay. My reality was actually a 1hr delay. I didn’t complain. I boarded my flight, and the trip was uneventful for the most part. I mean there was the incident with the Delta flight attendants arguing over who was doing more work than the other, leading to one of the attendants storming down the aisle speaking Spanish. (yes this happened ON THE PLANE in flight).
When I reached my final destination, I was told that my flight had been rebooked in ATL to leave the next day because they didn’t think I was going to make my connecting flight. Well I proved them wrong and hit the OJ Simpson moves as I raced throught the terminal at Flo Jo speeds. I made my flight and all was well with the world….or so I thought.
Shortly after take off my nostrils were accosted by the smell of something foul. I chalked it up to someone’s rude take off jitters and excused them, although I was still a bit pissed. Well those jitters proved to be a full on assault to anyone sitting in the immediate area. It made the cabin air thick. I could friggin see green stink smells floating in the air. My gag reflex kicked in. It was bad. I was hurt, I was sick, I was mad. I need to send a letter to TSA because I am not sure the plane wasn’t under some terrorist attack. This went on for the entire flight, which thankfully was only 45 mins.
So I take the biggest breath of fresh air when I exit the plane. I was free from the foreign operative sent to destroy my nostril hairs. I was no longer a POW. (kisses the ground and does the ugly cry)
In the car en route to my final destination, my smell sensors were attacked again, there were only 2 people in the car. And I know for sure I was not the offender. As I gasped for air, I choked the words “GrOSS! What is that smell?!!” He responds, “what smell?” He swore that the smell that could gag a maggot, was no where to be found. I told him that maybe it was a skunk outside.
*insert side eye*
Was he one of them? Did he have a mission to fill as well. I just couldn’t be sure. But I sure as damnn well knew there was a smell in the air.
Fast forward to the next morning. I hurry to the lobby and grab some OJ and hop in the car to head to our meeting site. In the conference room of just 4 people my stomach began to gurgle. I wiggled in my seat for a bit to distract the people in the room. Then there was a huge gurgle that I couldn’t mask for the lilfe of me. I moved a bit, but it was the loooooooooooooongest noise known to man. It got to the point that it seemed as if it was giving input to the topic of our meeting, so I had grab my stomach and mumble “ooh lord, my stomach! I must be hungry”. But everyone in the room knew that wasn’t a stomach growl. That was a “watch out she’s gonna blow!” fart gurgle….Furggle if you will.
I managed to hold my Furggle at bay during the rest of the meeting. Thoughts raced through my head. I couldn’t concentrate. Had “they” chosen me? Am I one of “them”? Chosen to dessimate those around me with my thuderous butt trumpet? “I REBUKE YOU FART GODS” I screamed in my head as I struggled to hold it together.
Lunch couldn’t come fast enough. Thankfully my phone charger broker so I had a great excuse to leave the premises solo. I didn’t need any company for what was about to take place. No witnesses. I don’t care if I had to lie to my coworkers and tell them I had to save a kitten from a tree, rescue baby Jessica from a well, or go back in time real quick….the point would be I require NO COMPANY.
As I sashayed to the rental car, my eyes filled with tears. I climbed into the car and tooted up and down Highway 49. They weren’t boisterous or smelly. Thank goodness, I can’t afford to have the rental reupholstered. I’m pretty sure I got better gas mileage from what was going on inside. (teehee, sorry I couldn’t resist).
I emptied my tank, but as I type this post back at my meeting site, my stomach is furggling again. I guess I have more work to do. I’ll keep my composure because I, of course, am a lady. I just have to get through this meeting and then the drive back to the hotel, where may God have mercy on my soul for the unleashing that will happen then.
What do you do when you have Furggles? I need some more tricks, because shifting in my seat, coughing and speaking loud aren’t working anymore.
Eyes In The Back - EST. 2001 