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Dear lady at AC Moore:

Yes, I farted inches from your head. No, it was not intentional. What happened was this:
It all started when I went looking for a particular skein of yarn. I started down what had to have been the most narrow aisle of yarn in the world. It was so narrow, I thought about tossing a string with some Velcro attached (Velcro– two aisles over) towards my purchase, and dragging it out old western jail-key style.

It was like this, only she was crouching and I was farting.

It was like this, only she was crouching and I was farting.

In hindsight, this would have been the preferable option.
You were crouched down, examining some yarn, about two thirds down the aisle. Now, I’m not saying that the proceeding events are your fault, but your head was parallel to my ass, and you were taking up most of the aisle. My skein was on the right, past you by several feet.
I took a moment to decide the best way to get around you. I could have walked up to you and said “excuse me”, thus suggesting by my tone that you are in the way, and should stand to make room for me.
I felt this was an invasion of your yarn shopping, and therefore improper and rude. (I was rather impressed with myself for considering your feelings.)
I could’ve walked around the aisle entirely, thus reaching my goal by complete roundabout. This option was immediately dismissed due to my overwhelming laziness. (I can only do so much for so many.)
Eventually, I decided the long step over with simultaneous “excuse me” was the best course of action.
The next three occurrences are seared into my memory, frame by frame (60% off custom framing) forever.

1. I moved my foot off the floor, and lifted it high and long to avoid touching you as I passed.
2. Halfway through the long step around, as my leg reached its zenith, the fart escaped, rather loudly. It’s possible you may have felt the breeze. I said “excuse me” simultaneously to the accidental puff. Your head turned towards me in slow motion just as I began to wish I were dead.
3. My foot landed a safe distance from your person, and I walked away quickly, hoping against hope that you had not seen my face (although I know which part of me you had most definitely seen), nor the shopping, ditched upon my frantic exit of the store.

So you see, I did not say “excuse me” for farting at your head. It’s very important to me that this is understood, because in the heat (or breeze) of the moment, you could have taken it either way. I realize that “excuse me”, no matter the tone or inflection, is not nearly enough apology after such an occurrence. I understand that, in fact, there is nothing to say to excuse such a social faux pas.
For the record, I don’t think it was particularly stinky.
Of course, had I accidentally farted in a position where there was no head within inches of my butt, I would have looked right and then left for the culprit with a mild look of disdain on my face, as is right and proper in such a situation.
I’m sorry.
I found my yarn elsewhere. I hope you did as well.

To my readers, please post this on whatever social media you have available to you. This happened 12/27/13. This poor woman knows who she is, and I sincerely doubt there were any other incidents like ours to happen that day. She deserves an apology… And under the guise of anonymity… I feel I can give her one.

Lady, I’m sorry. Sometimes your ass gets the best of you.

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