When I walked
into my office elevator this morning, I was pleasantly surprised to find my
boss in there. Not my direct boss, or boss’s boss, but the organization’s overall
head.
“Good morning,
sir,” I greeted him excitedly. It’s not every day you get lucky enough to share
an elevator with the most important person in your organization.
“This is it,” I
thought giddily. “This is your opportunity to impress.”
I immediately
rummaged through my mind for the best elevator speech I had come across on the
internet. This man must know how intelligent I am!
But just as I
opened my mouth to start talking, I felt a threatening rumble race from my
belly to my rectum.
What a time to
feel like farting!
I knew it was
due to the anxiety of being in the same space with my Oga at the Top, but there was no way I was going to disgrace myself
by passing gas while in that tiny space with such an important person.
I clamped my
mouth shut and screwed my fists tight, trying to hold the fart back.
“Are you okay?”
my boss questioned.
“Yes, sir.” My
voice was like a choked whisper. I was afraid to open my mouth to speak
properly lest the wayward fart burst out at the same time.
I began to sweat
despite the chilliness of the ambience we were in, and just when I thought it was
impossible to hold it back one more moment, the elevator door opened. The boss
had arrived at his destination.
Thank God!
He exited the
elevator after one last worried look in my direction.
I left out a
sigh of relief as the door closed behind him. And with that sigh, let the fart
out as explosively as it wanted me to.
“Ahhhhh,” I
smiled at the release. The odour that accompanied it was worse than a 7-day-old
boiled egg.
But almost immediately
after it closed, the elevator door opened again, and back in came Oga at the Top.
“Forgot something,
need to go back down…” he began to say, but was stunned into silence by the stench
of the fart I had just released.
I felt like disappearing.
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