I slump into my car and fart—a ripping release from another day of moronic managers and meandering meetings. And another day I didn’t bloody talk to him. For weeks I have been trying to find the courage to ask Jason out, to woo him with some perfect piece of conversation.
In the lunchroom today, I had my chance.
‘Hi Ellie,’ he said to me, stirring his tea.
Our eyes met, and my confidence evaporated. My voice went with it and all I could manage was a mumbled, ‘Hey.’
An awkward pause followed, punctuated by the ting-ting of his spoon against the cup. Unable to fill the void, I just left.
Now, I start the car to leave this day behind, when there’s a tap at the window. It's Jason, making a motion for me to wind it down. I do so; nervous and excited.
It’s exactly then that the results of my earlier gaseous emission arise, and a horrid stench hits my nostrils. Jason leans in closer and opens his mouth to speak. I’m mortified and quickly try to raise the window, but I’m too late. His lips curl, and his face twists, as the odious odour wafts through the half-open window to greet him head-on. He coughs and holds the back of his hand to his mouth.
‘Oh, God,’ I sputter. ‘I’m sorry,’
‘It’s—’ he begins, but I panic and close the window, sealing me in with my dread creation. I speed out of there, leaving him just a vision in the rear-view.
***
The next day passes and I manage to avoid Jason at work. What would I say to him, anyway? Any mystery—any allure—will have dissipated with the lingering foulness of a fart to the face.
I breathe a sigh of relief when I enter the lift to leave. But as the doors close, someone darts between them to join me; Jason, as fate would have it. I shuffle my feet and stare down at my phone. The awkwardness from the lunchroom yesterday surrounds us again and we do not speak as the lift descends.
Suddenly the silence is shattered by the unmistakable trumpeting of a fart. It ends with an upturned squeak, as if posing a question. When I look to the source, Jason is grinning at me.
‘So Ellie,’ he says, as if nothing had escaped his arse a few seconds prior. ‘You wanna grab a drink after work sometime?’
I’m equal parts embarrassed and dumbfounded. ‘Did…did you just ask me out by farting on me?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘You started it.’
It’s a fair point, and I can’t stifle a chuckle that comes from within.
‘Is that a yes?’ he asks.
I’d been so worried about the perfect way to ask him out, but perhaps it never needed to be perfect. In response, I cock my hip and let out the tiniest toot. We laugh, and when the lift doors open, we step out into the fresh air together.