I learned something Tuesday I should have learned long ago.
Never eat a Brandi’s World Famous Hotdog with its spicy chili laced with raw onions, complemented with deep fried onion rings and go to a meeting that people are sitting side by side, row after row, within 24 hours.
About six hours after my Brandi hotdog experience I returned to the center of Marietta to attend the Cobb County Genealogical meeting at the Cobb County Central Library.
They had a speaker with a topic I wanted to hear more about. It was putting your genealogy visuals (old pictures, movies, etc) onto DVDs and all the advantages and some of the techniques… it looked like something that would be nice to know and maybe utilize some day… then, instead of printing off a book, just burn them a DVD and they can sit in front of their TV and learn about their family history.
As soon as they darkened the room and started showing on the pull-down screen the various DVD possibilities I got the methane eruptions, aka farts. Luckily, sitting on top of the little belcher I was able to muffle the sound. I think then that hotdog, chili, and onions simmering in its own juices decided it was time to turn into deadly fumes. It was like sitting on something lightly popping. From time to time I would shift buttocks on the hard chair but clamped down during the shift. I have a mild cold, so I don’t know if my inner-bowel eruption of methane gas was smelly or not. I did notice once the lady in front of me turn around and look at me and other people, but saw somebody she knew behind me and waved. Was she looking for the source of the farts or trying to locate her friend?
When she turned around and focused on me for a brief second I should have pointed with my finger in front of my chest to the elderly lady sitting beside me.