Slick, man. Real slick.

This weekend I had to head into the District to meet Heather for dinner.

So, I hopped on the Metro and took my seat, alone. There were two women in front of me and on the first stop this guy in his late 20s hopped on and sat behind me.

The way the seats are arranged, however, we were sitting back to back, with him facing away from me.

I settled in and started reading a paper.

A few stops later we were at the Pentagon when ole' dude gets up and moves into the seat across the aisle.

What the fuck?

For a second I thought, "Shit, maybe I stink or something."

No...

"That can't be, I just showered and...."

The pungent aroma hit me then.

"Holy Shit...that little fucker," I thought.

I looked at him.

He knew I was looking at him and refused to glance back.

As he shouldn't, the little turd.

Who the hell drops a fart in an enclosed area, then gets up as if to say "Nope! Wasn't me, see, I'm sitting over here now and it's clearly coming from over there."

That's like farting as you are about to hop off the elevator.

Well dude, those women in front of me may have believed it was emanating from my ass, but you and I know the fucking truth.

That was your fart.