A Natural Gas
My wife and I knew that the Hill Country of Texas, and particularly the area around New Braunfels, San Antonio, San Marcos, and Austin was literally pock marked with caves and caverns.
We knew that out of the 3,000 or so caves, clefts, caverns, and sinkholes in the state, most of them were in that area, and we knew they were very well visited by many persons. We decided then to strike out west on Interstate Highway 10 and take in what is probably the western most, commercially operated, cave in the state. We were going out to see the Caverns at Sonora.
We started out early so we could make some good time getting there. The evening before, we had spent with our friends, the Hendersons, in San Marcos, and we had eaten out at a little known, but very tasty Mexican restaurant, the XXXX.
I love frijoles refritos, so naturally I had loaded up on beans and rice. That indiscretion would turn out to be a bad decision.
We were cruising down I-10, enjoying ourselves. I was driving and watching the scenery. My wife was reading a novel as she usually does. That’s when some serious gastrointestinal pressures began to exert themselves within me.
Now, I realize we’re talking about a delicate subject here, and I’m going to try to speak about this as gently as I can. So, here goes.
When the gastrointestinal pressures build up, certain things happen. Not explosive, mind you, but close enough. My wife is genteel. She calls those things “poots.” I usually call them something stronger.
Okay, I was driving down the road, and the pressure overcame me. When it did...I...well I’ll use the stronger term. I...broke wind. There, I said the stronger word. I broke wind.
The odor of it filled the vehicle.
I watched my wife out of the corner of my eye. Suddenly, she straightened. Slowly, she turned to face me. Then, one side of her mouth quirked up. Then slowly the other side quirked up. One side quirking wasn’t too bad for me, but when both sides quirk up, it’s pretty bad. Her face looked like it does just before she says, “EWWW.”
She looked at me and she said, “EWWW!”
There it was. She said “EWWW!” She was offended.
She shouted, “Did you just...”
I interrupted her, “Yes,” I said, contritely, “I’m sorry. I just...” I used the stronger term, “I just broke wind.” There I said it again.
She said, “EWWW!”
That was twice she said it. She was really offended.
She said, “You know how I feel about that!”
Yes, I knew.
She said, “I ought to just slap you.”
Now, my wife is not a violent person by nature, but she does have a few things that will set her off. ”Pooting” was one. Breaking Wind, however, was an altogether different one.
She said, “You did it in a closed-up vehicle. Quick, open a window. She opened her window. The escaping air, and gas, sucked her hair over to one side of her head. It was kind of like explosive decompression. Kind of like a large vehicular “poot.” I like to think it was like the car...well...you know, I'll whisper it...“broke wind.”
She closed her window and looked at me. Her mouth was still quirked up on both sides, her hair was jerked over to the right side of her head, and now her nose was puckered up. She looked kind of like she’d been eating persimmons for a couple of weeks.
Then, she squinted at me through narrowed eyes.
I could tell she was truly offended. I hadn’t seen her look that offended since the last time that I...well that’s another story. I won’t talk about that right now.
She squinted at me with her quirked-up face and she said, “You know how I feel about that. I ought to Jack Slap you.”
Now, folks, a plain old slap is just a slap, and it can be lived with. But a Jack Slap is nearly fatal. In order to deliver one, you draw your right hand back as far as you can behind your shoulder. Then you lift your left knee and foot like you’re a baseball pitcher going to throw a fastball as hard as you can. Then you bring your right hand forward with such force and violence that when it lands on someone’s head, it nearly obliterates them.
She said, “I ought to Jack Slap you right into the middle of next week.”
Now, that is almost as serious a threat as you can get, being slapped into the middle of next week. My mother used to threaten me with that. I always stopped what I was doing when she said that because I never wanted to find out how it felt...being slapped into the middle of next week, I mean.
Because I was driving the car, I didn’t really want to be slapped out the car and leave it driverless. No telling what kind of mayhem would have ensued.
Then she said, “No, I ought to Jack Slap you into the middle of next week, and then I ought to be waiting there to Jack Slap you back.”
Oh brother! I have never seen her so offended.
That really bothered me. I wondered about it. If she Jack Slapped me into the middle of next week, and if she was waiting there to Jack Slap me back, how long would I be gone from the vehicle? I mean would it be the time it takes to deliver one Jack Slap into the middle of next week, then the time it takes to deliver another Jack Slap to send me back into the car?
Would the car be driverless while I was passing between weeks, or would it be like the blink of an eye; like whap, Jack Slapped into next week, then whap, Jack Slapped back.
That was one gaseous issue, whose passing I was not interested in learning about.
I immediately began to apologize and open all the windows, and I promised to buy her a soda water at the next exit from I-10. She likes soft drinks, so I was determined to do whatever I could to get back on her good side...the side opposite of where her hair had been blown.
The vehicle aired out, and we made a few stops along the way for her to have a soda water. It was good for me too. I needed to walk around the RV, check the tires, and to check for “poots” as necessary.
When we arrived at the caverns and got out of the vehicle, she looked at me and said, “Now, Honey, don’t embarrass me in the Caverns.”
I knew what she meant. She didn’t want me to...”poot” in the Caverns..
But, I did wonder. I mean, before they had to evacuate a cavern the size the Sonora cavern, how much Breaking Wind would have to occur. I wondered if I was up to it.