From: Jay X.
Sent: Wed 27/10/2010 10:42 PM
To: cj@thiscrazytrain.com
Hi CJ
I thought about writing a shout out, or "shout put" depending on the grammatical capabilities of the person writing at the time, but then I came across your site while looking for the website for the shout out paper and felt my story was better suited for your site - which is hilarious and informative all at the same time.
Friday night, I was on the 17:53 LSE to Whitby. Throughout the day on Friday we had been entertaining some Hong Kong clients. At the pub we took them to for lunch, I ordered a large bean and beef nacho plate thinking that the two gentlemen along with my colleague and myself would share. As it turns out, the clients were not interested and my colleague decided he didn't like the meal. Like a fool, I consumed the entire plate which was heaping with three kinds of cheeses and more beans than one man should ever consume. I went back to the office bloated and full. This was around 3pm.
I left the office at 5:30 and took the TTC to Union. Just after King station, I felt the first rumble from deep within my gut. I thought little of it until while scrambling to get on the escalator at Union, the first fart made its way into my bowels. Small beads of sweat began to form at my brow as I fought my ass to keep a lid on things. As I walked through the throng to head outdoors to Union, I couldn't keep it in any longer and trumpeted it out slowly as I walked with the crowd.
I stood near the hot dog vendor for a bit as more pressure built. I let a few more go as I pretended to be deeply interested in the sky. When I figured it was safe, I made my way to the platform where I let a few more go. I knew it was bad when a small crowd had formed far away from where I stood. This made me relieved and I let a few more puffs out. When the train came in, I made use of the noise to really let the pressure rip when all of a sudden, all that effort resulted in the worst nightmare known to man.
I sharted. For those who don't know, this is gas followed by a mass.
Horrified, I stood rooted to the spot, completely frozen. I was wearing jeans. I could feel the small warm wetness. I had a jacket with me and underneath just a plain golf shirt. I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist. I quickly weighed out my options. Do I head back downstairs and clean myself and then venture to go buy some pants? Or do I just get on the train, take care of what I can in the bathroom and stand the whole way home?
I opted to get on the train. It was one of the cars with the larger accessible bathroom and I nearly cried at the site of it. I went in and went to business. It wasn't as bad as I thought but I still felt hiding out in the bathroom would be a good idea. So I sat on the toilet and waited.
The gas was terrible. I have never had cramps that bad. Just outside of Pickering, there was a small knock at the door of the bathroom. I sat there and waited, willing the person to go away. I said nothing and continued with the sweet release.
Halfway between Ajax and Pickering, another knock. I said nothing. Can't these people just go to another car?
At Ajax, my legs fall asleep and I'm miserable from the gas. I'm also miserable from how mortifying this whole situation is and I decide I'll exit the washroom and just stand until we reach Whitby.
I open the door and there's this woman standing there with a small boy next to her. Both of them were standing right outside the bathroom door. If I had a match on me, I would have lit it.
The little boy looks at me and says for the whole train to hear, "My mom says you were dying in there". "You were really farting!"
His mother shushes him and pushes him into the bathroom. As she's closing the door, I hear the boy say, "Ew mommy. It smells like grandpa in here".
Needless to say, I got home okay and my sympathetic wife, upon hearing about my tale of woe, hoofed over to the Shoppers Drug Mart and brought me back a bottle of Beano.
As you can see, this was way too long for a "shart out" but should be told. Learn from my errors and it should be a shart-free ride for all.
-JX
9 comments:
hands down. funniest story. ever.
LMAO.... although good grief, that's a fast digestive system - mouth to fart in four hours!
hahahah this is one of my nightmares!
I started the nacho plate at 1:30. It took me just over an hour to eat it.
I'm still marveling at my email being online. I wish more people would contribute stories here. The Shout Outs in the nightly newspaper are amusing but here, the whole story can be told!
You are a very confident man to tell that story in public! hahaha
There was one time I was in a hurry and rushed down a plate of pasta before hopping the subway to the GO. The next two hours were kind of queasy.
But Jay's story takes the cake.
oh, so that was you eh?
OMG...I think I just peed.
Thanks for sharing Jay! That is awesome!
This reminds me of a certain beloved minister who had a similar situation at a missions banquet. He decided to go commando, removed the offensive boxers (or briefs) and slid them into his wifes purse back at the table. Alas! upon return home as he apologized to his beautiful bride about what he'd done and went to retrieve them for the washer (or the trash), his wife said you didn't put anything into my purse.
Aaaaak - they went into someone else's purse. Go figure! :)
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