You know what I hate? Well, lots of things – but today I’m thinking about something specific. Give up? Okay – I hate walking into a room only to discover that the previous occupant has left something of their – shall we say – essence behind. ‘Behind’ being the operative word here (if one means ‘operative’ in the literal sense, of course). This is particularly irksome when cabbage and onion featured somewhere on the long weekend menu.
This is only intermediate-level hate, though. The thing I really, really hate is when someone else walks into the same room shortly afterwards and gives me a disgusted, knowing look. How on earth do you defend yourself against that?
The truth will not necessarily set you free – you have to face into the wind if you wish to have any hope of riding the storm of effluvial suspicion. “What are you wrinkling your nose at at? I didn’t plant that fucking stink bomb!” is perhaps a tad too aggressive. “Oh it’s not mine, it was here when I arrived” sounds so lame, it could qualify for a disability grant, but “Quite a stench, huh?” is sufficiently vague and conspiratorial to leave you smelling like roses. In manner of speaking.
the other side of the mountain 
You know what I hate? It’s when they don’t stop at “essence”…
(appropriately, my word verif ends in ‘vc’ today, which is the French pronunciation of WC.)
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Darn! I was hpoing for more entertainemnt in the comments. I shall return…
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LOL!!!
I have been at a seminar – of sorts – and someone in the row of seats either in front of me or in the same row as me left their “essence” in the middle of one of the lessons. It wafted freely over the rest of us! My eyes were watering – it was pretty much like your cabbage and onions variety too. And I was trying very hard not to get up and flee and also not to laugh out loud. The speaker must have noticed the expressions changing on my face and the tears rolling down my cheeks, and probably of those around me too, cause he kept giving our little part of the hall and me funny (thats Funny Peculiar) looks.
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You’ve touched on a very common issue. What really gets me is when your offspring, before you really expect it, blast like a long distance trucker, while you are carrying them around in public. The sound is so loud that people think that it couldn’t possibly be the child. All you can do is smile and claim ownership with a nod, simply because to start blaming your children at this stage would be setting a course for disaster.
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A dog is what you need… when we were chidren it was always the dogs fault…
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aaaw, poor kn! now don’t you wish they had those auto-spray jobbies attached to the top of every door!?!
i do like carolines idea… maybe start carrying a little stoep-kakker around in a shoulder bag- “paris style”!
mwaaahahahaha!
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Me thinks he doth protesteth too much.
Have you never heard the old adage ” He who smelt it, dealt it”
How on earth did I get involved in this?
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Or: “Will you be long here? I fear I have another just like it coming right up.”
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Too funny! I think the dog idea is the best. My dog used to fart and then look at his butt in surprise. It was hilarious to watch but horrible to get caught up in.
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Now you,ve got me giggling,
can,t resist telling you,
it happens to the best of us.
It happens QUITE OFTEN on
this side of the Alps, & be-
fore I get stinky glares,
I fan my face vigorously, to
let them see, wasn,t me!!
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Years and years ago when I spent 3 months at my in-law’s place in Jo’burg while on a 4 month course, I inflicted my essence on my mother-in-law.
After dinner, I’d retire to the small study upstairs where I’d be left in peace until one the in-laws called out good night to me a couple of hours later. On that particular night, mother-in-law chose to come ‘chat’. It wasn’t the choicest of moments as I’d made the most awful stench moments earlier.
She visibly gagged, spluttered then left the room leaving me mortified. It was most unlike her not to have said anything as she’s known for her directness but I think the stench stunned her.
No mention was ever made of it until I reminded her of it about 5 years ago. She says she doesn’t remember which could be true if I really did manage to stun her.
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I am not allowed to leave my essence infront of my hubby. My little one sounds like a scooter bike then her face lights up touching her bum and talking in her own language.
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hee hee – this is a smelly, uuhh, funny little conversation!!! I love this “leave of essence” it really is a lovely new phrase I can’t wait to use!!!
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“…the storm of effluvial suspicion…”
lol! Where do you get this stuff??!
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It may be hard for people of your generation to understand, but back in my day, a man with pronounced flatulence could make a healthy living on the Music Hall stage. My personal favourite, was Mr “Whoops there goes me guts” Partridge from Croydon. Oh, he used to have us in stitches that fella.
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There is no way you can explain yourself out of that situation, it’s no idea even to try – it will even make it worse 🙂
Take it like a man: look proud of the extra achievement, give them a stuck-up look with your nose in the air.
Or tell them: I’m only practising, I’m suppose to participate in a big contest…bla…bla…
Or say: I know I shouldn’t have buried that cat under the floor….
I’m sure they will remember you. *lol*
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What you need to do is turn around and get the hell out of the room. Don’t go back in until someone else does first. Problem solved.
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I live in a house full of men and two little todlers. Need I say more….oh and we had a dog that left such bombs, we had to flee the room. Man it was bad!!! The other day I caught the two teenagers having farting competitions. Must be a male thing?
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anne: That’s just scary.
andrea: So will a bad cheque 🙂
Spookie: In a crowded room, no less. That takes guts. Rotten guts, admittedly.
BtM: This is one of those ‘Society’ things isn’t it? I mean, everyone with kids knows the score, but still we try and pretend otherwise. Weird.
Caroline: No pets allowed at work – other than body vermin and intestinal microbes, of course.
angel: Nice idea, but frankly I’d rather have people think of me as a flatulent git.
Cherrypie: Ah, but if we apply the “He who smelled it” premise, then the other person in the room also did it. A physical impossibility, I would think.
Ol’ Hoss: Or, “I’m just getting warmed up. How’m I doing?”
Anduin: We really need to revisit that ‘no pets’ rule.
Pro & Edel: I’m going to suggest we start handing out charcoal biscuits at tea time.
Reluctant Nomad: Wow. Must have been pretty vicious if she suppressed the memory. I wonder if hypnosis would help?
whatalotoffun: So that’s why people give me strange looks when I’m on my scooter.
Terri: Oxygen deprivation does strange things to the brain.
The Blind-Winger Jones: Ah yes, a pity those days of making a decent living from your intestinal processes are gone. It was a kinder, gentler time – except for the poor bastards in the front rows, of course.
Lifecruiser: I did briefly consider the old “someone crapped in the paper shredder again” excuse, but then I remembered it’s been taken in for a service. Something was gumming up the blades.
Lunasea: Oh sure, like it’s not going to look suspicious if I’m seen fleeing the scene of the crime.
BUDDESS: How did they decide who had won and what was the prize?
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It’s amazing how “toilet humour” provokes such a large reaction. Thanks for the laugh, Kyk and the comments have added to the moment. I am with Terri, where do you get this stuff? LOL You have turned effluvial essence into a literary art from.
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Hmmm I have been known to pretend it was not me even when it was – very sad but true!!
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HAHA… when the next person walks into the room, look him(her) straight in the eye and say, “I can smell you brought company”
That’ll put the shoe on the other foot!
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What about dogs for the handicapped? after all it seems like a handicap… not being able to blame something for someone else’s smell…. it would be a smell-dog…
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