It was my second day working on Broadway…

This entry originally appeared on The Post ( on November 9, 2010.

. . . and all I can think about is how I’m going to leak out a toot in this tiny box office without anyone knowing. I wait and try to shift into a more comfortable position, but the pressure continues to build. At last my fellow treasurer leaves the office, and flatulant freedom is mine. Out of concern for the microphones I politely eke out my little fart. Relief. I relax a bit, sit down and then a wall of sulfur rushes me. Tears form in my eyes as I scramble for the hand sanitizer in hope that the ethyl alcohol’s powerful fragrance will mask the musk that threatens to give me away. With my coworker bound to return at any minute, I frantically unwrap two sticks of spearmint Orbit, toss them into my mouth and furiously chew to release the freshly scented counterattack against the foul odor looming in the box office. As the smell begins to dissipate keys jangle outside the office door, and I know I’m doomed. With a gust of air, the door swings open and wind rushes under the box office window as the peppermint/fart/hand sanitizer scented air rushes into the lobby past an old lady and out into the street. As the old biddy sniffs around in confusion, my panic subsides. The other box office person takes his seat and asks, “What’s that smell?” I point out the window at the elderly lady, and understanding hits my companion’s face, as I greet the woman at the window with a smile and a wink.


~ by Geoffrey on 9 November 2010.

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