I could feel it building up in my guts as I approached the taxi, but the clock was ticking. The driver noticed my approach and swung the pneumatic door open. I slid in and told him my school’s address. As he sped off I counted the seconds til he would swing that door open again and I could release the bomb. If I had done so in the enclosed, heated environment of his car…I was sure it was going to be a doozy, too; One of those reverberating blast of nasal singeing stench. And he seemed like a nice guy, the driver. If he had been the least bit snarky… But, I couldn’t do it to him.
On final approach to the school, we could see Otani-Sensei out front, tug-of-warring with a student who apparently decided that 10 minutes of this place was enough and was ready to break north. She looked like a "Yanki," red hair, a warm-up jacket with some elaborate script on it, and the one indicator that she was a student: a skirt hiked up high enough to just cover her asscheeks.
The driver and I took a bemused pause and watched this spectacle. Otani looked like she was tugging half-heartedly, like she half-wanted the student to break loose and make a run for it. They too paused when they noticed the cab, taxis being so cost prohibitive here as to make it a curiosity which of the teachers on staff here had the kind of disposable income that taxi riding implied.
Moment over, pressure from my rear reminding me of my urgency, I paid the driver and bounded by the two wrestling ladies on a beeline for the bathroom.
When I got into there, the pressure having built up to peak levels in anticipation of release, there was the principal at one of the urinals.
The toilet was occupied so I took the urinal beside him, and pretended to take a leak, waiting him out, the pressure in my bowels spiking at dangerous hernia causing levels now.
Then, the principal let loose a sonorous, rolling pass of gas that seemed to echo around the whole room.
And I did the same without hesitation.
We looked at each other.
“Ohayo Gozaimasu” I said.
“Uisssss” he replied, keeping his head aimed straight ahead, his eyes locked on the wall tiles.
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- Hunterfly Road Publishing2008 - present
- Long Island UniversityMedia Arts / English, 1985 - 1990
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