This is kind of what Franz Kafka shows in his novel “Amerika”, where he mentions defecation rituals in the United States.
I find it ironical that the OP should mention this happening in the Czech Republic since Franz Kafka was born and lived in Prague, the capital of the aforementioned republic.
Simple. Highly refined and considerate people excuse themselves, exit the establishment and fart in the comfort of their limo’s trunk. I thought everyone knew that.
Japan to the rescue. Many of Toto’s “Washlet” seats (the ones that are famous for spraying water to clean your butt) include a fan that draws air from the bowl, passes it through a charcoal filter, and expels odorless air to the side (click here, then select “deodorizer” from the feature list). It’s not a massive flow rate - it’s not like you feel a tornadic downdraft sucking your ass into the bowl - but it’s enough to prevent noxious odors from diffusing out into the room. The fan is triggered when you sit down, and a timer keeps it on for a minute or two after you get up. I have one of these at home, and it works really well, far better than the fan in the bathroom ceiling.
I had a friend (no longer with us sadly) whose greatest joy seemed to be public flatulence just to gauge folks’ reactions. There was this glass walled, lengthy hallway with great acoustics that was the entrance to a local shopping mall. Oone time my friend thunderously blasted away as soon as we got into the hall. There was a couple at the mall end who burst into laughter. He did this at LaGuardia airport too. In a tale I once mentioned in another thread, he blasted away, without breaking stride, by a couple of pilots waiting for their gate to open. They turned to each other and just fell down laughing. My friend wouldn’t have thought twice about tooting at a urinal. That’d be a warmup.
Not that you’ll see it anywhere in the collected works of Emily Post, but around here it’s not uncommon to fart while you pee in a public place. I usually murmur “Excuse me” when I do, but most guys don’t from what I’ve seen.
If it makes ya feel any better, I’m pretty much the same way. I can’t poop if anyone I know can hear me, because I’ll never be able to look them in the eye again.
Currently crashing in a house with three other people, and only one bathroom. I may legit wind up constipated or get a bladder infection, and it would be entirely my own damn, dumb stubborn fault.
Oooh, two just left for work, and one is I think taking a nap. Gotta run, I can finally poop in peace!
I naturally recall the line from the 1970’s OPEC oil crisis: FART IN A JAR! AMERICA NEEDS THE GAS! And cartoons of drivers with garden hoses linking butt to gas filler. But those were pretty quiet laughs and there’s a petroleum glut now.
Earlier were jokes that China could attack western USA by having their entire population jump from two-meter (80-inch) ladders simultaneously, triggering Pacific Rim seismic events. Which raises (not begs) the obvious: If all Chinese explosively farted together, how many megadecibels would result? Would Earth’s biosphere collapse?
Old Dopers may remember the sad plaint of pay-toilet days:
Here I sit, broken-hearted
Paid to shit but only farted
A biography of the French performer Le Pétomane occupies my bookshelf. I’d better avoid it right now.
Not something I aim to do, though I’m sure I’ve done it a couple times in my life. I certainly wouldn’t fault someone from doing it. Much rather they do it there than in the middle of the restaurant. I don’t expect bathrooms to smell that great.