I write the software for Geneffects and tend bar at the Cat's Cradle in Carrboro, NC.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Gas Leak

"We don't want to alarm either of you," said a customer, "but is smells like there is a gas leak in the women's room."

Lauren goes to check out the situation. Meanwhile, I'm not very worried as the bathrooms just tend smell bad in a non-standard way. I figure the person is confusing stinks when - oh my god - I do smell something!

I have just long enough to kind of freak out (I mean, what would we do? Evacuate the club?) when the next girl who comes to the bar says, nonchalantly, "oh yeah, that smell's coming from me."

"Say what?"

"The gas smell. I'm not used to filling my car up and I spilled gas all over myself." She was so candid and unashamed about it; even knowing that just about everyone in the club was talking about her!

Earlier there were threats of a gas leak of another kind. I've gotten quite used to being nude in front of a class of scrutinizing college-kids, but I'm comfortable with it only to the point of me being a living sculpture. Anything beyond that which would betray my humanity is mortifying - such as, oh, farting. I felt one coming and, without thinking, did that clench that we all know how to do but then realized, "dear god! They can see my ass clenching!" What to do? Do I continue clenching or do I try to let it out slowly? How would letting it out slowly look? A last ditch solution is to pass out right then and there. You could probably get away with just about anything as long as you passed out. The problem in this case solved itself by going away. I don't know where it went, but at least I could go back to being self-conscious of the huge bite-mark on my bicep.


karen said...

And just WHY did you bite your bicep?

1:23 PM  

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