So - Steve was likely hard of hearing?First job out of college, we had this older engineer, probably late 50s, early 60s. Anyway, my first real work trip out of town was with him. We'll call him Steve because that was his name. We're flying Omaha to Denver to Vancouver. We land in Denver and proceed to walk to our next gate. Steve proceeds to fart, quite loudly I might add, all the way through the airport. And DEN is a looooong airport.
The first time, I'm like "Oh my, that's embarrassing for him." Then it kept happening and I realized "he just doesn't care!"
As I worked at that company for many more years, I learned Steve was notorious for farting with reckless abandon and was well-known for not washing his hands and taking candy from the community jar.
Throw some of that pink saw dust in the mix and you have yourself some real olfactory overload.Reminds me of grade school... Kid would puke then the janitor would come in, clean it up and spray lysol. So you have only the smell of lysol and puke - neither of which smelled good.
I remember in 7th grade we were in Mrs. Evans' English class. She was the classic school marm, very severe - she didn't take any crap from anyone. She was talking and one kid put his hand up. She ignored him because SHE was talking even though he was close to front and center right in front of her. He sat there that way for about 15 seconds and then suddenly clapped his hand over his mouth and projectile vomited. It would have been better without the hand over his mouth because it squirted between his fingers farther than it would have otherwise seemingly sparing no corner of the classroom. His next words were classic: "I feel sick." No ****, Sherlock; you just demonstrated that to (and on) the whole class.Reminds me of grade school... Kid would puke then the janitor would come in, clean it up and spray lysol. So you have only the smell of lysol and puke - neither of which smelled good.
Had a barium enema years ago... They pump you full of barium and air and look at the innards... After the procedure they point you to a bathroom to "evacuate" what is left. I walk in and let loose. Mostly air but also some stark white barium carrying stuff but because it was mostly air it was LOUD. I thought, that since it was a professional medical facility, the restroom I used was buried deep within the bowels of the office. Imagine MY surprise when I opened the door - which had a large gap on the bottom - to the main waiting room. We all poop, we all fart, but MOST of us would rather not have such a large audience.I used to work for a bank software company that required three or four person teams to be on site for conversions. We were working at a bank that only had one bathroom - both men and women used it. And it was just off the teller line. My colleagues and I had been out eating and drinking late the previous evening, so when the obvious by-product of our activities hit me the next morning I had no choice but occupy that lone facility. Upon finishing, I returned to my work station in the lobby just in time to see one of the older tellers holding one hand over her nose and approaching the doorway with a can of lysol in the other. While "proud of the cloud" that I left behind, my co-workers were almost on the floor laughing. Luckily it was our last day in that bank.
I wanted to ask this board if their WFH habits changed because I've found mine have. I can no longer "hold it/them" while in my office environs I could go several hour-long meetings turtle-heading/prairie dogging/yo-yoing....As I've returned to work, I've been astounded by how quickly my body has responded to my typical "workday circadian rhythm". In other words, what time of the day I make poop.