tcsa

Silent But Deadly

Tonya, who really really needs to have a blog and I might have to start one for her and just write the most evil things so she'll have to start her own just to save her reputation.....
Where was I? Oh yeah.
Tonya reminds me that I've forgotten the term "ross" in my list of Quick and Dirty verbal shortcuts. And it's a story all it's own.

When I lived in Hawaii, I ran around with a pack of mentally unstable women, so I fit right in. One day we all went shopping at the retail discount outlet, Ross.
(For those of you who don't know of it, Ross's is one of those stores that sells merchandise that is just a little bit damaged, or just made badly, or just plain wrong on too many levels to pass muster at a regular store. I got my sheep on a stick there. )
On this day, it was Tonya, Wendy, Christina, and myself on the prowl for cheap goodies. Tonya and Christina wandered off, and I was left pawing through mislabeled dresses with Wendy.... when a Gastric Disturbance came upon me.
I had THE farts. I don't mean those quiet, genteel ladylike anal burps that can be dismissed as a little bit of salad dressing gone past expiration date. I mean those silent green clouds that kill small pets, usually resulting from devouring an entire raw squid dipped in sulpher.
And I let a bomb drop.
Wendy was downwind, and immediately wrinkled up her nose and looked around. I nodded at a man in an unfortunate t-shirt (I Brake For Big Boobs) and made a face for her. Wendy huffed indignantly and we moved to another part of the store.
Where once again I blasted.
Wendy jerked up her head from the cracked plate she was examining and looked around frantically. "There is it AGAIN! What the HELL?" And to my luck, and against his, there was that same guy, just down the aisle a bit.
Wendy grabbed my arm and hissed "I think he's following us! Move! MOVE!"
We rushed over to swimwear, where after a brief interval I let go another explosion. Wendy scanned the area with watering eyes, and third time's the charm.... there he was, one aisle over. He looked right at Wendy, obviously thinking SHE was the source of the olfactory all-evil. (I was hiding behind her. I'm stinky, not stupid.)
"We gotta GO!" she declared, and after we rounded up Tonya and Christina, we headed out to the car. Wendy, being prone to hysterics, was carrying on in a fine froth about The Mad Bomber.
"We'd move, and he'd follow us and just FART like a moose!" she exclaimed. "It was so bad, I was going to puke! He was FOLLOWING me, he really was!"
Once I stopped laughing enough to speak, I 'fessed up. And to prove my point, I detonated and they scrambled to get in the car, away from the certain fallout.
After a bit, they unlocked the doors and let me in.
So, thus is a meaning born... "to ross"- to ventriloquistly fart.
Btw, this term came in handy later on in yoga classes. But that's another tail for another day.