Typically, the "Fuck You of the Day" involves some national figure or group that has said or done something so terribly offensive that my brain can only just manage to kick out the words "Fuck You" in response. Today, however, we have a new kind of FUotD.
Hey, dude who farted right in my face on the goddamn el last night: FUCK YOU!!
Seriously, this dude ripped a truly foul SBD, with his ass mere inches from my nose. How rude is that shit??
For those unfamiliar with riding a CTA train, in a typical car there are four sets of seats that run parallel to the walls of the train, all of them abutting partitions that outline the doors of the car. The partitions are half metal (or possibly some sort of wood veneer?), half glass, with an open space of about ten inches between the two sections. Often, as the train fills up, people will lean their backs against the partition...if you happen to be sitting in one of the seats next to the partition - depending on the height of the person leaning on it - you may just be eye to asshole with a total stranger. Needless to say, ripping a fart in those circumstances is almost like shitting on someone's dinner plate.
So last night, I was on a pre-Cubs-game crowded train, and took the seat right next to one of the partitions. I tilted my head back against the wall behind me (thank gods I didn't lean against the partition itself - yikes!), and commenced snoozing. All went well while we were underground - Cubs fans got on at every stop, and a bunch who'd clearly been having some pre-game drinkies along Rush Street got on at Chicago and stood in the door areas, leaning against the partition. No worries so far....but then a few stops later, just as we were pulling away from Belmont....my nose detected something that was....just....not....right.
My eyes started watering, and I almost gagged. It smelled like this guy had opened a bag of sun-baked-decomposing-roadkill flavored potato chips in his pants!! I wanted to tap him on the shoulder and suggest he try a little fiber or something, 'cause DAYAM his bowels must surely be rotting from the inside out! I hurriedly tucked my nose into my sweater and managed to not suffocate in the methane cloud that had enveloped my head. A few seconds later, at Addison, the guilty party and his gaggle of friends traipsed off the train, leaving behind the ghost of a horrific and vomitous smell, not to mention me, fighting not to choke and/or puke.
It would not have been hard to turn around and aim that shit into some free space, or at least somewhere there wasn't a nose at ass level. Hell, it was only a couple minutes to Addison, where this dude could have ripped it in the open air....but NO, he had to send his nasty express mail right up my nostrils!!
I know everybody farts, man. It happens. It's natural and unavoidable, and I am not one of those prissy people who thinks farts only belong in bathrooms or when you're totally alone. Farts happen, and I get that. But. I also think that it's not all that hard to hold an awareness of where I'm farting, and try to avoid blowing a stinker right in someone's face.
So, yeah, dude, FUCK YOU. And may I suggest you try some Colon Blow?
Loud-mouthed liberal feminist. Anarchist knitter. Tequila-drinking artsy-smartsy fat chick. Bluesy folk-rock singer-songwriter. Rebel with too many causes. Quirky eclectic pagan poet. Paradoxical intuitive smartass. Sarcastic brainiac insomniac. You know, for starters.