The other day at the ATM doing the mun­dane thing of top­ping up a cash­card (why hasn’t the sys­tem improved over more than a decade), I felt a rum­ble in my stom­ach that to my mind, war­ranted a fart, and so I let a silent one rip.

It was to my shrink­ing hor­ror that I turned slightly and saw from the very cor­ner of my eye that there was some­one in line behind me.

I am sorry for this most un-civic con­scious act, and that you had to stand in the wake of the stinker, pos­si­bly debat­ing whether to leave the queue to come back later or to weather the mal­odour, before you were over­come into inertia.

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