Friday, September 23, 2011

Elevator friend

I share the elevator down to the first floor of my office building with a grungy, forty- something man.  He notices my black rolling bag (not very stylish but I needed it for my aging body aches).  

"You in sales?" he asks me.  
"Yes, how could you tell?  Is it that obvious?" I reply.  
He goes on to tell me about his experience in sales.  He does not look like your typical, attractive, well-dressed sales man.  He smells of cigarette smoke, wears baggy clothing and is in desperate need of a shower and shave. I can't help but wonder what he was selling and who hired him.  It is just the two of us on the elevator.  As he tells me his story, he begins to fart.  Yes, fart.  Obvious, popping fart sounds continue as he tells his story.  Stuck on the elevator, the smells are starting to engulf our small space.  When the elevator doors open, he continues to walk side by side with me.  I stop at the restroom door about to head in, and give a friendly good-bye to him.  When I come out of the restroom, he is waiting for me.  He continues walking to the parking lot with me, FARTING.  I'm a little uneasy with this strange man following me to the parking lot, but noticed the security guard following us and felt a little more at ease.  He happened to be parked a few cars away from me.  Attempting to hold in my laughter during this encounter, I hope in my car and let it all out.  

How do these things continue to happen to me? 

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