Adventures In Crop Dusting (long, gross, & juvenile)

MissMusic

XP from July, hope it gives you a chuckle.

I had a day off yesterday, and we needed a few items (especially peanut butter), so I decided to go shopping.  Its time for our monthly warehouse club trip, and so CostCo was the destination.

I pulled into the Costco lot after lunch, and realized that my squash soup with a side of fruit wasn't going to sit well.  However, CostCo is quite possibly the most awesome place in the world to have gas.  Unlike department stores, CostCo has high ceilings and very wide aisles, not to mention its as big as a warehouse (because it IS one), so your farts have the ability to dissipate in any direction without harming wildlife or small children.

After considering all of this, I got out of the car because the smell was making my hair fall out.  I collected my cart and decided to do a full loop to expel the gas before I started my actual shopping.  Once inside, I felt free to let it rip.  I'm pretty good at the SBD's, so I was pretty sure I wasn't going to set off an alarm or the intercom system or anything like that.  Once I got going, I decided to remove my peacoat to give myself as much aeration as possible.  I didn't want any farts to get trapped under the coat, so removing all fart-blocking obstacles seemed smart.

I started doing the first lap of crop dusting.  Nothing flew off the shelves, no produce rotted, and I avoided other shoppers.  I felt great, but still not completely empty.  Feeling cocky, I decided on a 2nd lap.  That was my first mistake.  My next mistake was steering the empty cart towards non-refrigerated areas (everyone know that those places have better air circulation and fart stink naturally dissipates faster in colder temps).  I went straight for the cleaning supplies.  I saw a commercial about the "power of Gain" dryer sheets and such, so I thought I'd give it a try.  I think every shopper in CostCo was in that aisle.  The aisle first smelled overpoweringly like detergent and "clean", but digestive tract soon contributed its own aroma.  I made it through the aisle and only got one or two glances, mostly the semi-shocked but being polite "because maybe she is too poor to bathe AND lives above an Indian restaurant with a backed up septic system" type of glance.  I can handle that.

Finally I decided that the powers within me were of X-Men quality, and like Jean Gray, I had to vacate the area lest they break free and kill everyone around me.  I pointed my cart back towards the doors and began to make my escape, and in my mind the farts were propelling me towards them at breakneck speed.  However, I had to stop.  Something caught my eye, and I needed to stop.  I was passing the tables full of Fruit of the Loom undies, and I was pretty sure that the pair I was wearing had disintegrated.  I squeezed my cheeks and waddled over to the undies.  6 pairs for like $6 sounded pretty good to me...but I put them down.  6 pairs wasn't going to cut it.  The 14-pack next to it was what I needed, or so my gut told me.

Thank god for self-check outs.

I drove home with the windows down.

I'm going in for a reconnaissance mission today.  We really need peanut butter.