It was a warm Monday in July. The cabbage fields were emanating a particularly lovely fragrance in Camarillo, and I was on my way to pick up my second passenger of the day.
I guess when I pulled up to pick her up. I should have known how my trip would be, as she was digging deep to get a wedgie out of her overly tight dress.
She reeked like beer… It wasn’t even 11am yet, thats pretty hardcore… Her bloodshot eyes, slightly skewed make-up, and uncombed hair told the story of a night long after party somewhere in the hills.
So, naturally, I cheerfully ask, “How is your day?”.
She looks at me, rolls her eyes and says,”Just get me home.”.
I start to drive and she passes out in the seat next to me.
Now at first I don’t notice the painfully awful aroma starting to seep from within my own vehicle, because like I said, the cabbage in the fields was letting loose a particularly tormenting foul odor of its own. But as I pulled out of cabbage valley, and start to go over the hill, her silent but deadly’s became a lot more robust, and a bit louder.
I cracked open a window within seconds, gasping for what little salvation I could muster from an inward current into the car. It wasn’t enough, I needed more air, I opened the second third and fourth window.
Why isn’t it going away, I thought.
After another 10 minutes, I started to become intensely aware that whatever she pulled out of her ass when I was picking her up, must have been a plug holding the sulphurs of hell back from asphyxiating the planet.. The first seal has been broken towards the apocalypse… I blamed a Netflix original for that thought.
Then she stirred. She looked at me with an intense disgusted look, then said, “You realize even rolling the windows down, with this horrible smell, you are getting a lower star rating”.
I couldn’t help my self, I started to laugh. I couldn’t believe she was assuming that stench was coming from me.
Oh, its not funny, you should really consider what you eat before you start driving passengers around.
She was glaring at me, almost daring me to say it was her.
So, I did.
I didn’t say, “Your Mount St. Helen was exploding while you slept”. Even though I really wanted to. I simply said, “You let loose a few while sleeping”. I mean, why not. She’s already threatened to give me a lower star rating, so I might as well be honest.
She was horrified. Indignation ripped to her very core. Sheer hatred errupted in a single sentence of vehemence of , “Excuse Me?!”.
I said frankly to that, ” You were passing gas.”.
Then denial quickly erupted out of her, “No, I wouldn’t pass anything this awful, stop blaming me for something you did.”
I decided not to push the envelope, after all, I had another 15 minutes to go until her drop off.
All was peaceful and we were 5 minutes from her drop off, when she turns to me and says, ” You know, Beano is suppose to help with your issue.”
I was beside my self, I couldn’t believe she still thought it was me, and in the midst of an urge to retort, “Beano doesn’t help stale beer farts.”, she ripped not one, but two extremely loud, and horrifically pungent gaseous emanations.
A few seconds passed, as did the tears of pain from my eyes.
Finally she said, “That wasn’t nearly as bad as the ones you let off.”.
I gave up, didn’t talk, and then dropped her off. May she stew in her own juices.