Misadventure Monday

So anyway, for Monday, since it is usually gets a bum rap and is touted the most miserable day of the week…*poor Monday* I decided to write one of my many misadventures-you know to give my readers a chuckle or not = a crap-shoot.

Anyway, back on track with the story… 
So I used to work in a high-rise office building; mind you, used to (being the operative word) does not live there anymore.

Every Monday I would walk into the steel, glass-encased building, with a crowd of well-dressed people, barreling across the lobby, carrying coffee in one hand, phones in the other, while, balancing a briefcase, bag or purse with a newspaper on the side = The White Collared World in a nutshell.

All with the same, singular, purpose = Get to the elevators as fast as you can and …wait, and …wait, and …wait. (You get the   picture)

Some pace back and forth, others read, some will apply makeup and other’s like myself, will stand stupidly still and stare at the floor, actually at yourself in the reflection of the high-polished floor = everyone in their own world.

That is, until the elevator dings = Personal space ratios will be obliterated as an imaginary drill sergeant will seemingly bark a command = in unison they + me, will all pile onto the elevator at the exact same time- moving as one, pivot and turn, facing towards the doors again. = nothing short of amazing.

Silence will descend like a fresh blanket of snow…until… the one-day the silence is broken...

Not by a cough, sniffle, or random throat clearing, no, the silence will be broken by the distinct and unmistakable emergence of the air - biscuit = fart
The pungent aroma of someone’s quickly eaten breakfast burrito will force out any other scent of expensive cologne or perfume in a matter of seconds.

I, of course, am not, accustomed to this form of restraint. I literally choke back a hysterical laugh, which makes me cough odd, then I start to gag, the scent is overbearing and yet not one other person has done a thing, not even flinch. The elevator dings indicating we a slide by yet another floor, without a stop and I can barely stand on my feet any longer for want of falling over with laughter, and revulsion, simultaneously. Finally with no other alternative, I look upward, only to discover the ceiling is mirrored and the rest of the people inside the elevator are doing the exact same thing… except they are looking at me, like I am the guilty air biscuit dispenser. 

I want to speak up-defend myself, at least whoop loudly with laughter because it still is funny.

And yet…somehow, some way not one person laughed, not even a chuckle = white collar etiquette = WTF?

Farts are funny.

Case + point =   White Collared World = not for me.

Happy Monday!

*Sorry if this offends some of you, but this is how I roll = not quite straight. o_-