10/13/2017

All's Smell That Ends Smell

Story Sent in by Taylor:

In Mina's defense, she had a great sense of humor. She laughed at nearly everything I said. I wasn't sure if she was just humoring me, but the laughs seemed genuine. I thought things were going very well. We met for coffee, took a walk, sat down on a park bench, and as it was shortly dinnertime, I thought I'd ask her to dinner.

Then, during one of her laughing spells, she farted.

Her laughter stopped. She turned pink. I smiled at her and reassured her, "It's okay. I take it as a compliment."

She laughed at that, so hard that she farted again. She said, "Oh my god! I can't stop!" she laughed and farted yet again.

It was funny, more or less. But so many farts in rapid succession, even outside with a slight breeze, smelled godawful. She must have eaten an entire barnyard for breakfast and for lunch. I stood up and took a step or two away. Then I asked her to dinner.

At dinner, she farted a few more times while she laughed. She said, "I feel like now that I've done it once, I have no shame, anymore." It was okay with me, although the smell was still pretty terrible. That and the fact that she farted loudly enough to catch the attention of neighboring tables... well, that was a bit of a turn-off.

Even after dinner when we took a brief walk and I didn't say much, she still let a few loose, not even accompanied by any laughter. I brought the date to a close and we parted.

Aside from the farts it was a decent date. Which is to say it could've been better. She wrote me the next day to tell me that she felt self-conscious because she did all the farting and I didn't fart at all. She asked me if on our next date I could fart in front of her so she could hear what it sounded like when I farted. I didn't know how to respond to that, so I didn't. Ever.

10 comments:

  1. How do you respond? You fart, dude. Goddamn, it's not hard. You probably missed out on an amazing relationship.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Replies
    1. That is fantastically gross!

      Delete
    2. LOL OMG that picture.

      And I'm sure you've heard of the Squatty Potty?

      Delete
    3. And, speaking of poop jokes:

      I lived in NYC for a few years. I lived just North of Times Square and worked just South of it, so walked through throngs of tourists every day going to work and back. How do I know they're tourists? Easy, they wear shirts with big block letters proudly proclaiming "I ❤ NY" on them. No person who actually lives in NY owns such merchandise.

      It gave me the idea to do a "tourist" character out at Burning Man one year. So a lady friend and I got matching cargo shorts, fanny packs, and I had some T-Shirts printed up with big block letters declaring "I ❤ BM" on them.

      Do you have any idea how many random strangers will come up and make poop jokes at you while you're wearing a shirt that says "I ❤ BM" on it?
      The less brazen ones will come up and shyly ask "So, uh, what's the, uh, BM, stand for?"

      Anyway, all this talk about poop is making me hungry.

      Delete
    4. That is some commercial! Funny like hell, actually selling something useful!

      Delete
  3. Come on, OP. Darts are what keeps me and my wife together! I suppose it's a question of limits. When does a fart stops being funny and just annoying... She was clearly nervous about it though. Should've given her a chance.

    ReplyDelete
  4. This reminds me of the time I laughed so hard I farted right in the middle of dinner with my family and husband. He was just my boyfriend then, and so as not to leave me the only embarrassed one at the table, he let out a fart of its own.

    Good times. You know you gotta find someone who will fart in public with you it's much more entertaining going out that way

    ReplyDelete
  5. Alas, she was born too late to be with James Joyce, who was clearly her soulmate.

    http://www.cracked.com/article_18559_6-famous-geniuses-you-didnt-know-were-perverts.html

    ReplyDelete
  6. Gross.

    I reckon she was a fatty.

    ReplyDelete

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Content Policy

A Bad Case of the Dates reserves the right to publish or not publish any submitted content at any time, and by submitting content to A Bad Case of the Dates, you retain original copyright, but are granting us the right to post, edit, and/or republish your content forever and in any media throughout the universe. If Zeta Reticulans come down from their home planet to harvest bad dating stories, you could become an intergalactic megastar. Go you!

A Bad Case of the Dates is not responsible for user comments. We also reserve the right to delete any comments at any time and for any reason. We're hoping to not have to, though.

Aching to reach us? abadcaseofthedates at gmail dot com.