That Answers That
Not only do women fart, it can cost them business.
This time, I’m not just releasing gas. Rather, I’m now suffering from a real case of the runs and it burns my ass on the way out because of those damn spices! In a vain attempt to conceal the toilet splashing, I perform a couple courtesy flushes.
Complete buzzkill.
By the time I emerge from the bathroom, the lights are on, the candles are no longer burning and the room is silent. Red-faced and flustered, I let M know that we should probably continue some other time. He agrees and I retreat to my apartment in a taxi.
I hope that M didn’t use the bathroom for some time. The toilet may have been clean when I left, but the whole bathroom reeked!
Note to self: never ever eat Indian food before a date…
Nothing like a good blog by a New York Call Girl.
The Corcoran Brothers 