The Winds of Romance

Story Sent in by Barbara:

I was having a decent if boring time out at dinner with Dale when he farted. He whooped and cheered, then raised his arms like a touchdown.

He asked, "What would you rate that one? A six? A seven?"

I said, "Ugh... like, a zero?"

He grabbed his beer and said, "Ah, fart juice," and drank down nearly half his glass at once.

He farted twice more over the course of the meal, each time cheering loudly for himself and rating the flatulence.

After the final time I asked him, "Could you stop that? It's sick."

He laughed and said, "Get used to it, if you really wanna spend a lifetime with me!"

I said, "Well, I don't."

That shut him up. It was as if he really didn't expect that answer and it really upset him. We split the check and he hurried away, never to take me out on another date again.