Hear Ye: Refrain from Farting by Gollum, Lest You Suffer His Wrath

I've got at least one more "natural gas" story that I have to tell. I'll try to keep it short.

Al (referred to as "Alvin" in a previous post) and I one night were dealing with a kid named Chuck, a buzz-cut, pimply faced young teen who liked his rap music. Chuck was one hundred percent white, but apparently he was raised in a black family. I'm not absolutely sure what his circumstances were—I think perhaps his mother married a black gentleman and moved in, along with Chuck, with his family. I dunno.

Chuck was skinny and gangly, and with his short-almost-bald round head and pimple-littered face, he looked a lot like Gollum from "Lord of the Rings." So, Al and I—to ourselves, of course—referred to him as our beloved "Gollum." And sometime "Smeagol."

Anyway, this night was during a time when the clients were allowed to have boom boxes and CDs in their rooms (whoever thought this was a good idea surely had little foresight or imagination). And Chuck got really worked up whenever he'd listen to rap music. He would start pacing in his room, thrusting his fists into the air, rapping along with the CD, and generally becoming worked up into a frenzy of frenetic agitation. His behavior really affected Al and I, because we worked the overnight shift and Chuck's music would encourage him to stay up late into the night listening to it and becoming disruptive with his dance-stomping and sing-along rapping. When Al and I tried to make Chuck turn off his boom box and be quiet, he would throw a teenage tantrum of ample proportions. It was a significant headache dealing with him.

So this night while we were addressing Chuck in his room, threatening to take his boom box away if he couldn't be quiet, the urge emerged. And I let loose from my caboose. But it didn't have an effect Al and I could have predicted.

Chuck, a kid of minimal concern for cleanliness and manners himself—as evidenced by his poor personal grooming habits—reacted to my fart with utter offense.

"Why'd you do that!" he cried out, tearing up in anger. "Why'd you do that!"

He then tried to burst out of his room, and Al and I had to stop him by stepping in his way and holding him back.

"Chuck, calm down," I said. "I'm sorry, it was meant to be funny but I guess you didn't get the joke."

"I didn't think it was funny!"

"Obviously," Al said.

"Look, I'm sorry," I added. "I won't do it again if this is how you feel about it."

We managed to calm Chuck down—but, wow, his reaction was certainly unexpected. I learned to be a little more judicious from then on with which kids I could share a little friendly Bronx cheer.

(Not that I shared it often—it was really a rare occasion, in fact, that I saved for moments in which I thought it would lighten a tense mood or work as a disincentive for a kid to behave in a way that required such an "intervention.")

But Al and I to this day have a good laugh over this incident. Who knew Gollum could be so offended over just a little bio-methane? Who knew.


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© 2008 David Lee Cummings