passing the blame | the Urban Dater

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Alright, kids, this one is going to be a short and sweet post and probably a bit gross to you women reading this, so be warned. So let's cut to the “meat” of the story…

I'm not sure what I'd eaten that night, but it was something that didn't sit well in my stomach. The gal I was seeing had slept over that night. We were both passed out and fairly drunk from our night out. It was a hot night, no AC, we were both naked and sleeping under a sheet. That's when it happened.In the wee early morning hours, I farted. To say fart is not to do this particular act any justice. I'm not the sort that relishes in the expulsion of gas; I never participated in burping contests as a child, or man-child for that matter. This was an explosive eruption of gas. So much so that I woke up because of it. The stench was simply acrid and of the foulest nature… This was bad. The gal and I were still fairly ‘new' and I was worried that this eruption and subsequent stench would awaken her. So I can only think to wave my hand over her face in a vain attempt to fan the smell away from her… Naturally, that's when she woke up and asked, bewildered, “What are you doing?” It was then that I told her what had happened: “Honey, you just farted really, really loud and it fucking stinks, like, really bad! You smell that, right?” She was confused, but then suddenly became mortified and embarrassed, she didn't question me on my accusation…I never did tell her the truth.

For this, my friends, I am a jerk.

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Alex is the founder and managing editor at the Urban Dater. Alex also runs: DigiSavvy, for which he is the co-founder and Principal. Alex has a lot on his mind. Will he ever get it right? If he does, he'll be sure to write.