And sorry about that. Burrito night.
When it comes to passing gas, I make sure my significant other is notified. Heck, I proclaim the coming of the next stink missile. Her “events” are what I call, “Silent but deadly.” After all…
Why do farts stink?
So deaf people can enjoy them too. 
I’ll generally just say ‘excuse me’ and let people figure out what I’m excusing myself for. Though if I’m around hubby usually I’ll just giggle and look away from him.
In my team at work, however, it’s a great game to fart and then turn around and ask your neighbour “Do you smell KFC?”. If they smell it, then hilarity is had by all.
Yes, I am the only woman in a team of ten men, why do you ask?
Normally I leave the immediate area if I am trying to be polite; especially around people I am not yet chummy with. This last weekend, tho, I was on a trip with a bunch of guys (and one poor, hapless girl) that I had just met. From the rich diet and excess of beverages, my intestinal tract was, shall we say, ‘out of whack.’ Even using my normally effective technique of just leaving the room for a second, the damn things were so potent, they followed me like a puppy that just rolled in something that itself rolled in manure shortly before dying a nasty, painful, and above all three months previous death. Of course, when the odor refused to be left alone in a strange room with no one to admire its greatness, I had to take credit (while giggling like a school girl, I will admit). One was even so bad that it lingered, migrated, and refused to be aerated.*
So, to answer the OP, I usually try to be discrete. But, when I have no recourse, I fess up.
- I damn near killed the poor guy who was sharing a room with me. Assuming there would be a couple of minutes for it to disspiate, I walked into the empty bedroom and <ahem> said my piece. It was truly awful. I mean, I near gagged on the way out. I saw the poor bastard going to walk in to retire for the night, and called out, “ahhh… don’t go in there for a minute or five.” Even thusly warned, he tried, but after only two more steps stopped like he hit a brick wall. He ran out gagging, cursing, and waving his shirt to clear the air. Of course, everyone in the cabin with a y-chromosome was laughing hard enough to bust a gut (but my buddy’s GF just sat there in stunned silence). I assume that finding farts funny is mostly male humor.
Not always male humor!
Late one night I felt the urge while lying in bed next to my husband. Thinking him safely asleep I let 'er rip. This was a superior burst, lasting at least four seconds at quite a loud volume. I shook with silent giggles, thinking I had gotten away with it until my husband commented sleepily “You could have tried out for the Army band with that one.”.
God, no, I’m of the female persuasion and I’m laughing myself so silly over this thread my eyes are watering. I’m gonna wake up my girlfriend in a minute, I know it! Me + Fart Joke = Instant 10 year old boy. Oof, my ribs hurt!
Since my gastric bypass I’ve had problems with farting, and usually carry around a Mini-Oust air freshener, or a small Bath-and-Body room freshener in my apron pocket at work so as not to leave little clouds of noxious death for my coworkers or customers on the bad days. My boss (female) suffers from colitis, and will loudly warn us when she’s about to have an “incident” or if the bathroom is uninhabitable for a few minutes. I get teased mercilessly about the air freshener, though they do admit they appreciate it! On my farewell card they listed my Top Ten Quotes they would miss when I left, and one was “Oops…Sorry…Shhh (sound of air freshener)”! I should be pleased that they keep calling and asking me to come back, air freshener and all, because they hate my replacement, and they sort of miss the smell of apples I’d leave in my wake!
Re cure for loneliness:
I test it every day, and it never fails. The smell of my ass brings co-workers on the run. One of the worst times was when I was working as a drugstore cashier. I’m lactose intolerant and I was having a particularly bad time holding on to a bit of ice cream I had unwisely ingested. If I may be specific, I was continuing to run a register while trying not to shit my pants. Something horrible and damp escaped me just seconds before the manager came up looking for change. She bent down with her key to unlock the drawer, positioning her face about three inches away from my behind, and there just wasn’t a thing I could do to save her.
I’ve never heard my dad fart. Ever. And I lived with the man for 18 years. Weird, no?
I think I’ve heard everyone in my office fart at least once. No warnings, though. You just have to take your chances.
Usually I’ll walk around and loudly inquire “What’s that I smell… is that fresh bread? Anyone else smell fresh bread?”
Oh, he farted. My sister’s farts used to sound like wolf howls. And no, we never let 'er rip outside the family, either…even when the grandparents were visiting.
If it’s with friends i give them fair warning . If it’s at work I lay them down like napalm and watch em suffer .
I personally, find it potentially embarrasing to acknowledge my sins.
So what I do, if I have really “polluted” the space, and someone else somes into it, is go, "Oh, Damn! " and walk out fanning the air and gagging.
Yeah, I’m a :wally
Oh man. My daughters will love that one. I’m stealing it.
It never failed when I worked in an office that the only time anyone would come into my office was immediately after a good rancid blast.
There was another guy in the office who kept his door closed, and every time you opened it to talk to him, noxious butt fumes would billow out out you. I guess it was his way of keeping the conversations short.
There was another time in a somewhat crowded dance club that a friend of mine let go the nastiest of nasty death from his ass. We knew immeditaely what had happened, laughed, left the dance floor, and watched. The other patrons caught whiff and reacted with that “stink face” and waving motins as they tried to move out of the way. We learned that the fart had an effective radius of about 10 feet for about 2 minutes.
Ever thought you were safe by letting rip outside? I let a monster rip and then got in the van to take the kids to school. Whooo. I should have beat it out of the ass of my pants first. Why in hell does it just sit and linger so long. Poor kids shouldn’t have to suffer that way, it’s child abuse.
I’ve always liked Miss Manners’ position on the subject: socially, farts do not exist. Ignore them.
My worst was after an afternoon of drinking Milwaukee’s Best. I went to a party and let out a series of Silent but Deadlies. It was about six of them strategically let out in several rooms of the party. I then wandered out to the balcony to get some beer from the keg. I heard a series of people complaining that there must be a sewage backup of some description. Good times.
Take cover, he’s lighting a flare!
WHOOMPF!!!
I have no shame with my gas. I’ll fart and keep talking like nothing happened.
Shrimp has an odd effect on me. Two hours later I stink. Make my own eyes water and want to open the front door in the middle of winter stink.
Saturday I went to dinner with friends and said that a shrimp pasta dish looked good and two of them said in unison NO! Preemptive fart control on their part.