How (Not) to Fart at School

A few days ago, one of my classmates, Jack, made the mistake of writing that I "could write about absolutely anything and [he] would thank [me] for doing so." Little did he know that I was already hard at work on this post, determined to tackle even the most taboo of societal problems.

I had to think long and hard about whether or not to post this at all. I had to look in the mirror and ask myself some real tough questions, like, "Is this a compromise of my artistic integrity?" "Will this result in my being shunned?" and "Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?" The answer to all three: Well, he did say anything... Game on.

Already I’ve noticed some themes in my posts: cats, college, and advice aimed largely at girls. As I am a cat-loving female college student, this is hardly surprising. They do say to write what you know, but sometimes I feel that I not only fail at being a female and at being a college student, but at being a person in general.

So while I’ll continue to address areas specific to my life, like college-type shit and trying to have a normal conversation with a boy, I’ve also come up with a few basic fundamentals of existing in the world that are a constant concern. I imagine that most people worry about these things, so here goes.

Let’s just put this on the table: farting. It's one of those problems that everyone deals with, but no one is ever prepared to address directly. Let me do so now.

If this didn’t make you laugh, I recommend you read no further.

Sort of like that book, “Everyone Poops,” well, everyone farts. This we know. Sort of like that other book, "Walter the Farting Dog: Banned from the Beach," farting at an inopportune moment can have disastrous consequences.

Don't be like Walter.

If, for some reason, you have never farted in the wrong place at the wrong time, then get the fuck out of here with your perfectly trained anal sphincter because I DON’T WANNA HEAR ABOUT IT. For everyone who's prepared to be honest with themselves...

In the classroom

Have you ever been sitting peacefully in class when, out of nowhere, the entire room is engulfed in the unmistakable scent of fart? Of course you have. Your first reaction is undoubtedly to scan the immediate area, looking for the guilty party. Hint: it’s probably the person working really hard to not look around the room, like the guy who suddenly has to alphabetize all of his old essays.

Of course, what if you look up and no one else seems to have noticed? You look around and don’t see any other faces of obvious disgust, any other pairs of wandering, accusatory eyes… Oh my God, are you the only person who can smell it? If you point it out by pulling a face at your neighbor, are you implying your own guilt?

And so the vicious cycle continues, with a whole room full of nauseated individuals determinedly shuffling their papers, all hoping to be acquitted of the blame by virtue of their utter nonchalance. What a cruel, cruel world we live in.

I hope this works out for you.

In the bathroom

This seems like a place where farts belong, right? Wrong. Not if you’re in a public bathroom, or even a private bathroom without a fan.

I don’t know if this is a pressing concern for guys the way it is for girls because, never having been a guy, I don’t know the ins and outs of male restroom etiquette. But for girls, it’s a dangerous world, riddled with unspoken rules and inevitable awkwardness.

First of all, the accidental fart. It happens. When it happens, you will freeze, horror-struck, knowing that every other girl in the bathroom for sure heard that and is either disgusted, amused, or feeling sorry for you. If this happens, you have to wait until EVERYONE ELSE LEAVES. If bitches are doing their make-up or talking on their phones or inching their too-small Spanx up bit by bit, THIS COULD TAKE FOREVER. Suck it up, you don’t have a choice.

Also, the worst thing you can do after the accidental fart is laugh. I always laugh, not because of the fart but because of the few beats of uncomfortable silence that inevitably follow. I know that every other girl is trying to suppress their reaction, be it a giggle or an exclamation of disgust, and that makes me even more unbearably nervous and giggly.

The other option: the purposeful fart. This is when you know you need to fart and that’s WHY you’re in the bathroom. You probably go in the middle of class, hoping no one else will be there. You are always wrong. You go into the stall and think, OK, I’ll just wait this bitch out. I can text. I can loudly “blow my nose” longer than any one person possibly could have need for. Eventually, she’ll finish doin’ her thing and leave, and I can do my thing in peace.

Sometimes this works. But sometimes – and if you’re me, most times – you sit and sit, waiting, until finally you realize: she is going nowhere. Clearly, the girl in the other stall is there for the exact same reason you are. And now it begins…the waiting game. You become determined to outlast her, just as she is determined to outlast you. Only one can be victorious. Only one will be left in porcelain peace.

This is your Highlander.

Make sure it’s you, no matter how long it takes. If necessary, start humming to yourself until she gets freaked out and leaves. It’s as they say: All’s fair in love and- you know what? No. I will not succumb to that kind of humor. Finish the sentence yourself.

When you think you’re alone…

When you have to fart, it’s never safe to just assume you’re alone. You need to check around all possible corners of the area. One time, I walked into my dining room at home, and assuming from the quiet, deserted nature of the ground floor that I was alone, farted. Really loudly. My sister’s boyfriend was sitting right around the corner in an armchair. I already had reason to question his character (he had a very judgmental gecko look about him) but this humiliation cemented our mutual dislike. I hid in my room for the next four hours, waiting for him to leave. I’m pretty sure this is why he dumped my sister.

Bottom line: for God’s sake, double – nay, triple! – check.

In front of the opposite sex

Obviously this is not ideal for either gender. The only time I’ve farted in front of a guy was two weeks into my first serious relationship, and only then because HE WOULD NOT STOP TICKLING ME. I tried to warn him, but it was already too late. While we were dating, he found it very funny and it quickly became his favorite party story (yeahh). Now that we’ve broken up, apparently it isn’t cute anymore. I tried to bring it up once and all he said was, “Disgusting.”

I have, however, had many a lad fart in front of me. Boys: please, please, just DON’T. I don’t know what it is that makes guy farts smell so much worse, but I literally want to die every time one reaches my nostrils. By comparison, girl farts smell like actual roses.

A friend asked if I would write about accidentally farting during sex, but there are some lines that even I will leave uncrossed. All I can say is, if you really don’t want to have sex, tell them you’re “feeling kind of gassy.” This is the #2 best excuse for getting out of most intimate situations, right after pink eye (more on that later).

Fart Anxiety Disorder (FAD)

OK, I’m 95% sure I just invented this, and am subsequently expecting my Nobel Prize any day. Fart anxiety is when you don’t really have to fart, but you suddenly notice how quiet it is, or how close you are to someone else, and think, “Wouldn’t it be awful if I farted right now?” And then BAM. Good luck thinking about anything else. The more prolonged the studious silence, or the closer he snuggles into you…the worse it’ll get. All you’ll be able to think about is not farting.

I made the mistake of telling a friend about this once. She then went out of her way, every time she knew I was alone with a boy, to randomly text me, “Don’t fart.” I cannot over-stress the importance of cultivating a supportive group of friends. After all, your friends should be the ones who guide you through life's unavoidable mishaps...especially the gross ones.

Bitch.