Kaonashi Ga Suki

What- ya’ll didn’t think I’d forget, did ya?

So I got sidetracked a little and wrote about other stuff for a while. Sue me.

Anyway, here’s my #1 Top Embarrasing Moment. Naturally, it occurred in junior high, where I reckon about 90% of everyone’s most embarrassing moments occur.

If you say that nothing embarrassing ever occurred to you in junior high, then you’re a big fat liar.

Junior high has got to be one of the most awkward moments in a person’s life. You’re not in elementary school anymore so you’re not really a kid, but you’re not quite a teenager yet so you can’t drive and actually do anything fun. Puberty is causing your body and your face (and voice, for guys) to go haywire.

It’s not fun, people.

In 6th grade, I was sporting the most wicked afro an Asian person could sport. Yes, it rivaled Kim Jong-Il’s fetching hairdo. I got inspired by Jennifer Grey’s curly hair in Dirty Dancing but had one perm too many. Result? Poodle hair. Add a ginormous pair of ugly, cheap looking glasses with plastic frames and fucked up, pre-braces, vampiric teeth, and you’ve got, well, NOT the belle of the ball.

Fortunately by 7th grade the perm died a natural death and I had normal hair again.

That didn’t mean that I was free from misery and embarrassment.

It was during P.E., 7th grade. We had to do sit-ups. The teacher partnered us up, and we had to take turns doing sit-ups while our partner held our feet down. Easy enough, right?

Not if your butt was full of gas.

Ya see, under normal circumstances if one is compelled to, expel some air, she can usually do so discreetly while sitting down in class or standing up. For example, she can shift around in her seat and slowly release the fumage. No sound escapes.

However, if a person with a butt full of gas is doing sit-ups, the results are quite different. The body’s position of lying on the ground, knees bent, and moving your upper body up and down is conducive to pushing the gas out of one’s butt in a most explosive manner.

Which is exactly what happened to me.

My partner went first and did her sit-ups, while I held her feet. The whole time I felt nervous since I could feel bubbling sensations in my stomach and butt that signaled I had gas. I wanted to just sit in one corner and let the gas out indiscreetly and quietly, but I was not to have that chance.

When she was done, we switched places.

I lay on the ground, bent my knees, and she put her hands on my feet to hold me down. I crossed my arms over my chest and started doing the sit-ups.

At first it wasn’t so bad. I was controlling my butt and nothing was coming out.

But soon I lost that control.

*pooooot*

A small leak escaped from my ass.

Although it wasn’t very loud, I prayed that no one, especially my partner, had heard.

Then it got bad.

Very bad.

RIIIIIP PIIIIP FRAAATTATATATATATATTATAT

My partner looked down on me, surprised and irritated. After all, because I was lying on the floor with my knees bent, my butt was facing her.

“Did you just fart?”

I didn’t say anything and kept doing my sit-ups.

FRATTTATTATATAT POOOOOOOTT

“Oh my God! You did! You farted!”

Some of the girls next to us giggled when they heard her.

My face was bright red at this point. I really should have just stopped doing sit-ups, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. I kept on doing them and farting at the same time.

“You guys! She’s farting!”

More stifled giggles from the girls.

My partner was getting really irritated and yelled for the teacher. “She’s farting!” she cried out, but the teacher didn’t hear her.

POOOOOT RIIIIIIIIIIIP FRATATAT FRATATATAT FRATATATATAT

“Stop farting already!” she cried out.

“Shhhhhhhh. Shhhhh,” said one of the girls next to us, trying not to laugh at the same time.

“But she keeps farting! Stop it!”

“(laughs) Shhhh, shhhhh. You don’t want to get in trouble (stifled laugh).” repeated the girl.

It was horrible. The people closest to me could clearly hear that I was farting, and my partner kept grumbling about it. It didn’t help that she was an 8th grader, a member of the upper elite in the world of junior high school. I on the other hand, was only a 7th grader -a commoner, a nobody.

Mercifully our sit-up session came to a close and my partner and I separated from each other. Needless to say, we didn’t hang around each other throughout the rest of the class period. Or semester.