It was 11pm on a Thursday night, we were sitting close together, and that’s when it happened.

“You have trouble making eye contact, don't you?” She proclaimed.

I giggled. The type of giggle that makes you a question a man’s sexual orientation. She cocked her head to the side like a dog. Wondering what she had witnessed. I tried to play it cool and change the subject.

“I'm just not used to making extended eye contact with someone like you.” She smiled. She took it as a compliment. But really, I meant all girls. I had not made eye contact with a female since the year of the rat.

“I’m awkward like that.” I quipped.

She giggled, clearly mocking me. I nodded, Touché.

“Follow my lead,” she said, as we maneuvered to sit indian style, to face each other, knees touching. “I am going to teach you how to be comfortable with women.” She locked her intense gaze onto me. “Look me in the eyes.” She added. I obliged. She took a deep breath. Her body relaxed. And-

Pifffffeeeerrrrrttt…

She let out a fart. The type of waspy fart you hear when you hold open you butt cheeks to let all the air out.

…Piiiffffffffffft…

She continued to stare. Her fart marched on. Unrelenting in length. I immediately broke eye contact. Unsure of what to do or say next. My eyes darted around the room looking for anything to distract from the auditory assault. But that’s when the offensive noise was matched with an equally offensive smell.

“Good god woman, what did you eat? Actual farts?” I said, shaking my head, “Seriously, can you stop, it smells awful.”

Her beautiful mahogany eyes made no acknowledgement. She was being stubborn.

Peeeeeerrrrraaaaaappppppffffft. The fart continued. Her eyes never wavering from mine. There was nothing for me to do except make eye contact with her. To embrace the beast.

One second, two seconds, three seconds, four… The seconds dragged on as I counted in my head. I wanted her to stop the madness. But the hiss of ass continued.

Five, six, seven, eight seconds. The gasser spilled out of her butt.

My shoulders relaxed, a rarity, since my friends always commented on the knots around my neck. Maybe it was the methane causing my muscles to relax or maybe it was something else.

…Eleven, twelve, prrrrrrrrfffffftttttttttt... The unrelenting toot continued.

I lost count, as the entirety of my attention had shifted to the stench. It’s if the smell had formed a dark liquid pool around my nostrils. I was several feet deep in it, wading slowly, lazily. I was drowning in the smell of Chicken Marsala she had eaten earlier for dinner.

Mercifully, it stopped. “You see?” She whispered, “This is what it feels like to be comfortable with someone.”

It happened at 11pm, the most unexpected thing. Our first fart.