Note from my editor after receiving this column: Seriously? Farting? I'm passing on this one. Even if you wrote a column on bodily functions with incredible tact, it's still not something I'm going to give to RedEye readers as they're sitting on the bus or grabbing morning coffee. But there was none of that in your column. It was crass and juvenile.
Guys, tell me this hasn’t happened to you before:
You’re laying on the couch with your sweetie, forced to dedicate your evening to an “America’s Next Top Model” marathon. Those Extreme Nachos with jalapenos you ate earlier make your stomach start rumbling.
You do your best to hold it in, but then you chuckle at something on the television, and before you know it: “BRRBBBFFFFTTT!!!”
You have just christened your girl to a fact your friends already knew about you: You’re a nasty bastard prone to clearing out rooms.
We have an idea on how we wish to conduct ourselves when we first start dating someone, and it’s seldom indicative of our true natures. In the words of Chris Rock, we put forth “representatives” of ourselves when dating.
“Representatives” don’t belch, have no need for tampons and won’t rattle couch cushions with powerful emanations.
But we all get to a point where our unsavory habits come out, and I think a lot of people look at that as an inevitable, irritating – if not often comical - aspect of every relationship.
I think that getting to the point in a relationship where one feels comfortable farting around their partner is a sign of progression. Smelly progression, but progression nonetheless.
Flatulence and other putrefaction can be interpreted as signs of intimacy. If, during the shooting of deuces, the bathroom door gradually becomes open wider and wider, and he becomes less and less concerned about leaving his skid mark-infused tightie-whities on the bathroom floor in plain sight, it means he’s extremely comfortable with you.
That disgustingness is not only a sign of growing fondness, but also of increased vulnerability. It’s on the level of a man sobbing in front of his woman, letting her know how much money he earns or (shudder) letting her drive his car.
Ripping farts and similar foul behavior is often considered juvenile in nature and typically associated with men. In my experience, that just isn’t the case.
Women like to let off those “silent murder” farts that you can’t hear, but find out about when it’s too late. Even as your nose hairs start falling out, she vehemently denies it’s her, even when it’s only the two of you in the room.
And as much as it still makes me bristle when I hear a woman speak – in detail - about her “monthly visitor,” I appreciate that no woman ever did it unless they were completely comfortable with me.
Interestingly, just about everyone I polled informally agreed with me: gas passing is an innocuous natural bodily function. Several said they don’t see a problem with enduring the filth from people with whom they have sex with and see at their most vulnerable.
Of course, you have to get to that point with people, so nasty behavior doesn’t often fly in early courtship. Be mindful not to make disgusting mistakes of an epic caliber, as I have:
Maybe two weeks into dating a new woman, I did the unthinkable and, umm, forgot to flush her toilet after copping a squat.
She told me about it weeks later. I wouldn’t have blamed her if she never wanted to see me again, but she didn’t think my leaving floaters in her toilet was a big deal.
I imagine things like that happen in relationships all the time, so if a woman can be that forgiving of that level of nastiness early on, it’s probably a good sign that longevity is in the cards.
Still, I wouldn’t do what I did so early on and expect a phone call back.