Lift Etiquette

It was half past eleven at night. I picked up my ever so weary body and I picked up my bag. I said good night to my clients as I head to the lift. As I walked, I realized that I have an urge to fart. It must have been the Hokkien Mee I had for dinner.

Talking about “Hokkien Mee”, whenever I listen to the Akon’s Smack That I always enjoy a good laugh. There must be something wrong with my ears.

Hey DJ, spin that wheel.

I feel you creepin', I can see you from my shadow.
Wanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo.
Maybe go to my place and just kick it, like Taebo.
And possibly bend you over.
Look back and watch me
Smack that, all on the floor,
Smack that, Hokkien Mee some more,
Smack that, 'till you get sore
Smack that, oooh.
Smack that, all on the floor,
Smack that, Hokkien Mee some more,
Smack that, 'till you get sore,
Smack that, oooh.

But anyway, I must have sat on my butt for too long because as soon as I stood up, the uncontrollable urge to fart encapsulates me. With my client standing next to me, I tucked in my belly and tried to stop the fart from escaping.

From my training, I learnt the technique of isolation, therefore putting it into good use, I tried to isolate my ass crack muscles without stressing any of the other face or pelvis muscles, I hold. I squeezed my ass tight to prevent the wind from escaping. I hold.

The lift took an incredible time to come. But when I was just about to give up, I hear a “Ding”. The lift was here and my client waved me good bye. I took a deep breath and I walked into the lift in a position as if I had an apple between my thighs. I looked at my client for the last time and gave out a million dollar smile. The door closed.

“Poooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooot”. Dear Lord, I thank you for this wonderful moment. Amen.

I was at Level 6 when I hear my own sound of relief. Better than sex? Yes.

I was at Level 5 when I smell my own mixture of food and beverages. It must have been upsized.

I was at Level 4 when I hear a “Ding”.

Come on, it was half past eleven and I was not the only one working still?

Grab a life, go home.

A young woman, not very pretty, thank God, walked in. The lift door closed.

She smiled, I smiled. She sniffed. I sniffed. She put her fingers to block her nose. I smiled and I said “Its not me. I guess it must be that guy that stopped at Level 5.”

She smiled and I smiled back.

I was at Level 3. Please don’t “Ding”, please make the lift faster.

I was at Level 2. I think this lift is moving slower than me playing Monopoly.

I was at Level 1. “Ding”.


I think I did a good job and it was a job well done. It was time to complete my second wave of fart.