I probably shouldn't tell you this but I was standing in our work computer room the other day and I farted. Farts are generally a boy thing aren't they?
We all do them, just some people don't like to admit to it. I bet they're the worst ones. In a quiet room, all alone with no chance of being caught, they'll be the one dropping the loudest and smelliest ones and revelling in the solitary glory.
The rest of us are content to gloat, only in the appropriate company of course, about particularly memorable ones, whether that's because of noise or smell, or the ideal combination of both.
Familiarity breeds contempt they say. It also breeds acceptance of other people's bottom emissions and I'm all for that. A friend is someone you can fart in front of. A great friend is someone who appreciates your farts as if they are his own. My use of the word "his" was very deliberate there.
In my whole office the computer room is probably the worst place in which to get the urge. It's small and hot and noise and smell are amplified by its natural characteristics. It's the perfect place to fart and run out of, leaving your enemy or little brother or business partner in there to suffer. It's about the worst place in the world in which to fart and try to conceal the matter.
That traditional man's dilemna of whether to escape quickly and risk taking the smell with you or to stay in the room thereby risking the very real chance that someone will walk in and realise your crime and your guilt. Does anyone have a policy on this?
I asked my brother about this and he thinks that it takes roughly 4.63 seconds for the smell to dissipate from your trousers before you can leave the room, safe in the knowledge that the smell won't travel with you. The worst thing to do is to make an exit from the room in less than 4.63 seconds, this will result in the odour travelling with you for all to smell. My brother is very intelligent and I can safely assume that he knows scientists or brainy coves who have done experiments at huge cost to the taxpayer on this. I can see it now. Men in white coats with stopwatches and farts. Who said academics are boring?
So there I was, in the computer room and I slipped one out. First let me tell you that I didn't get caught, so panic ye not. What did happen was that I uttered a Sri Lankanism. It's another phrase or word that I have not heard used by any other nation. My earliest memory of it is my maternal grandmother using it when dealing with mess, usually caused by grandchildren.
A few years ago I saw it used as part of an ad campaign in Sri Lanka. I wish I could remember which Company it was but my only recollection is that it was a retailer. I'm certain I saw it as part of a window sign on a shop in Majestic City.
One of my more recent but suprising hearings of it was when I proudly showed my newish tattoo to a good friend while in SL a few months ago. I had expected her to gasp with wonder at my daring and my artistic flair, swoon a bit and generally admire me. Instead she just looked at me, screwed up her nose and mouth and said, or more growled:
Nkosi Sikelel’ iAfrika
6 hours ago