Farts are probably one of the greatest defining characteristics of humanity as a whole. We will never appreciate that as a species, but the way a fart can bring us together in laughter and discomfort is truly unique. But where one fart is potentially great comedy, there is a limit that must never be crossed. Once it is crossed, we get pissed right off. I will suggest that five farts is this limit. Five farts is where it goes from being funny but gross to out of control and fucking terrible. This is where you begin to feel like somehow the other person is doing it on purpose; they have somehow mastered the art of forced farts and are doing their best to crop dust you out of straight-up malice. This malicious farting will not be allowed.
You and I both know that the idea of malicious farting is pretty far-fetched. Sure, you can time them in a malicious manner every so often, drop one at the perfect moment in a conversation or walking by someone to really sell the point that you want that person to smell the atmosphere of your colon because you dislike them that much, but it's a one-time gig, and it's still pretty funny. Really funny, in fact. Once you up the gas count, though, all bets are off.
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"I'm crop dusting! Kind of literally!"
Multiple farts are, 99 percent of the time, a sign of a poor culinary decision. You could have eaten a Greek salad but instead thought that all those discount taquitos that the guy at 7-Eleven was just going to throw in the trash were a better idea. So, 25 16-hours-old taquitos later, the inside of your body is as squalid and damaged as a Third World war zone, and the only relief you can get comes from the repeated and constant release of devilry from your ass. Good for you; bad for family, friends, and co-workers. At some point (fart Number 5), everyone will decide you're doing it on purpose to make everyone else feel bad and the laughter will turn to vitriolic hate as people cover their faces with shirts like ghetto ninjas and insist that you go to the bathroom because apparently you're sitting on an undisposed-of shit and just airing it out in the room.
Any of us in the same position would be silently crying out for sympathy. No one wants to be the fart guy in any situation. Once they stop being funny, that shit's embarrassing. You become the person who literally smells like shit. Because the smell of shit keeps wafting out of the same hole shit comes out of. No one would do that on purpose, and getting angry at that person just makes them feel worse. Don't be mad at a serial farter the next time it happens, because there but for the grace of rotten taquitos farts go your own ass.
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For a while I thought this was a thing that only exasperated me, until I discovered that, literally every time in my life someone was unable to hear me more than once, they acted as though I had just removed their shoes, pissed in them, put them back on, and then firmly squeezed their genitals, after being assured that they did not want a firm genital squeeze.
I can't account for why, but as a species, we've decided that the world around us is entitled to one extra chance to hear what we said, and one chance only. We say something like "Hey look, pierogies!" and someone says "What?" and we happily point to the sign: "Look, a pierogi restaurant!" But God forbid the person we're talking to didn't hear us that time, because another repetition is apparently as painful as a colonoscopy from an epileptic Edward Scissorhands. We just can't do it.
The truly polite among us will opt for a "Never mind," which you'll notice your deaf friend always hears just fine, but other people will explode in exasperated grunts and signs and "Forget it!" proclamations, as though being asked to repeat ourselves was on par with being asked to explain all the political and financial ramifications of North America adopting the Amero as a standard currency.
As annoying as it is to have to repeat the same thing again and again, is there any rational basis for the anger it invokes? Someone didn't hear you; why do you get so pissy about it? This must give the deaf a terrible complex. You don't throw down on blind people for not commenting on the hilarious joke on your shirt. Or maybe you do; you could be really terrible. Stop reading this and go be a better person, you monster. For the rest of us, the next time you need to repeat yourself, just make sure you're getting the person's full attention and actually speaking a little louder. Then, if that doesn't work, throw rotten fruit at them, for they are just the worst.
Felix Clay
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