When a Fart isn't Just a Fart

-One of my good friends recently told me a story that I felt obligated to relay to the world. Some would consider this story as incredibly embarrassing and shameful, so I’m not going to name names. It’s sufficient to say that the individual’s first name is also a New Testament gospel and rhymes with Ron. And his last name is Stillman.
-It’s time to get real. We’re all adults here, so let’s just put something out in the open. I’m talking about the gamble that everyone takes on occasion…even girls. First off, everybody farts. I fart, you fart, your girlfriend/boyfriend farts, Jessica Simpson farts, Brad Pitt farts, etc., etc. Every now and then, the contents of one’s colon are such that one has to fart but there’s a risk of “leakage.”
-I’m going to digress at this point and acknowledge the fact that I have just taken my blog to a place that it may never return from. I’m way down in the gutter, and I may not make it out…Oh well.
-Anyway, sometimes there’s a calculated risk when one has to fart. In this particular situation, “Ron” (as we’ll call him) was in the Harris Teeter on Airport Road when such a risk presented itself. “Ron” was in the middle of a mid-day grocery run. He really didn’t see this one coming. What was meant to be an innocent grocery isle crop dusting was about to turn sour. As “Ron” let loose and expected to feel the joy of sweet release, something happened…there was more than just methane gas exiting the exhaust pipe.
-Now you must know a crucial detail. “Ron” just happened to be without underwear this day. He was as free as a bird in gym shorts. That’s a problem in and of itself but it gets worse…The shorts were white. “Ron” had to make a split-second decision: continue and hope the “leak” wasn’t too bad or abort and leave immediately without checking out. There happened to be a woman at the scene of the accident. “Ron’s” eyes met hers. It was clear that she smelled something that just wasn’t right, and she was disgusted. "Ron" couldn't readily see the backside of his shorts but they felt as if whatever was back there was visible. The decision was made. “Ron” would abort.
-He left his cart, power-walked right out of Harris Teeter, and drove home as quickly as possible to A: change and B: tell his friends/roommates immediately about what just happened. He couldn’t help but laugh. And what else could one do? He took it like a man. There was nothing he could do but laugh. He was a grown man, and he had just pooped himself. Classic.
-When John, I mean “Ron” got around to telling me the story, I started laughing. I haven’t stopped yet.