In the Air Force, my first duty station was at Royal Air Force (RAF) Base Fairford,
As I am standing at attention, I noticed a black Staff Sergeant break into a run coming in my direction. He then foot planted off the desk beside me launching him self up and into the air. Please note: at this exact moment, I am still standing at attention. The Sergeant’s buttocks crossed in front of my face, at this exact moment in time I heard a loud noise, I am positive you can imagine what noise I heard. Without room for error, the noise was 100% flatulence. In fact, I thought the Sergeant had ripped his uniform pants the noise was so loud.
Still at attention, the entire office broke into an uproar of laughter. My face turned red with anger and embarrassment. Every muscle in my body tensed and tightened, I wanted to physically pound this guy. You see, I had never been farted on in my life! Sure, people had released gas, but not on me and definitely not directly in my face. Talk about being down right dirty and disgusting.
As the Staff Sergeant began his decent, he hit the wall next to me with a loud bang, and darted quickly out of the immediate area, disappearing into the warehouse. My fists were tight and my blood boiled as I was prepared to open up a royal can of whoop buns on this guy. However, I held back my emotion and constrained my attack out of respect for the Staff Sergeants rank. Did he deserve respect, I don’t think so, but it is all about control.
Who observed this reporting for duty? Johnny Ugmosis (warned them about me), Mudd, Big Mac, The Black Cowboy, The Rocker, The Hit Man, Country, G-Man, the Fryer, and of course, the culprit: Scary Larry.
G-Man actually approached me later and said, “In this office, you either fart or get farted on. I replied, “These are steel toe boots, so make my day.”