I'm delivering funny. Here is some Chicago funny.
It pains me to be delivering funny. I must warn you, that you may need to run to the bathroom if you laugh even a tenth as hysterically as I did when this all happened. Here goes nothing. Please don't think less of me.
So, for some STRANGE reason, when I travel, I have massive problems with my digestive track, like, it stops...STOPS. I'm not exactly sure if it is the plane ride, the altitude shift or whatnot...but this happened to me in Chicago. (I thought I was alone in this...but Leisha admitted that she was having the same problem. I'm sorry to have admitted that FOR you Leish...but you know how this all ends...and it is TOO funny NOT to share.)
So, needless to say, my body decided to stop digesting food. I was in Chicago for almost 5 days. If you calculate the number of meals spewing in my body and being held in my intestines on day 5...you can only imagine what must have been brewing. One of the first meals going in was a very spicy...chicken enchiladas...they were still in there.
On the last night of our trip...I talked Leisha into going out and getting some "old lady medicine" as Leish likes to call it. I like to call it Dulcolax (that is a stool SOFTENER not to be confused with a laxative...I was desperate, but not THAT desperate.) So, we took them right before bed...and luckily for Leisha it helpled her. Me? Nada.
Leisha and I decided to go out to lunch before we caught our plane on Monday evening. So, we had a nice meal at P.F. Chang's and did some QUICK shopping at the Nordstrom's across the street from the restaurant. We got a little carried away and we were ten minutes from our "late check out" time at the hotel...so we literally ran into the hotel to throw our bags together to check out before they charged us for another day. As we literally ran into the elevator...we push the button for the seventh floor...the elevator starts going up and out of no where (literally who would EVER "fluff" on an elevator? NOT ME! NEVER...would NEVER! It just came out of no where...!) I farted on the elevator. I farted...enchiladas...p.f. chang's, breakfast from four days, pizza...steak and mashed potatoes, chips ahoy...anything else you can THINK of...was in THAT fart. I thought..."Oh my heck...we are going to die if that elevator door does not open!" So, I warned Leisha that I had let it rip...when we see "floor six" pop up on the little sign. The elevator STOPPED. It was STUCK. It never made it to floor 7. Leisha in her quick minded self, (she was in survival mode at this point, as was I) smartly hit the Lobby. We get back down the the lobby...(miracle of all miracles)and we literally RUN out of the elevator.
You're probably thinking, "Wow! LUCKY!" Right? Well, it gets better. So upon running from said elevator and full of laughter we see this guy...who happened to have been waiting for the elevator start walking in...we are like, "Dude that elevator is BROKEN!" (Trying to spare him from what was inevitably disgusting inside.) We push the button for another elevator and to our surprise one comes rather quickly...Leisha and I are DYING at this point...and in walks the little man who walked into the other elevator. This is what he says:
Me: "Ya, that other elevator was seriously broken, we got stuck...and it wouldn't go up to the floor we needed."
Man: "I don't know about that elevator being broken but something was sure broke in there."
Leisha: "Um, ya..."
Man: "Someone broke wind maybe."
Leisha and I: Straight faces.
Leisha: "Dude, you smelled it too? That it totally why we ran out of there!"
Man: "I was thinking, if I follow these girls and the smell follows them in there...I am in trouble."
Us: Straight face until elevator reaches seventh floor.
We turn the corner and bust up laughing and farting all the way to our room.
We got checked out on time.
Lucky us. Unlucky Man.