Yes, I’m afraid it’s a fart story.
Once I was on the Greyhound bus riding between Portland, where my parents lived, and Eugene, where I was going to college. I was sitting there next to a fairly attractive woman, who I had earlier talked to briefly, when all of a sudden I felt the need to fart. As we all do in these situations (but most people don’t detail it on the Internet), I anticipated the flatulent moment and clenched myself to hold it in, calculating just the right time to contract and relax, and when the “contraction” was over, in my mind I was like “boy, that was close; I averted a major public-fart disaster there!” breathing a big sigh of relief. But then, oh my god, I started to detect a minor (?) whiff of foul odor, and I thought to myself, “...I sure hope nobody else can smell this” -- quietly praying that it would be over soon and remain confined to my private island of consciousness. But then, it seemed like it was getting stronger, WOAH, “Am I just being paranoid or is that really noticeably BAD?!” I started feeling that cold, nervous sweat and panic that precedes social humiliation, as the smell started growing really VERY BAD, OH MY GOD bad! And then, to my extreme inner horror, it began to get EVEN MORE INTENSELY RANK-SMELLING, beyond imagination! OH SHIT! PLEASE NO! THIS IS NOT HAPPENING!!
And then somewhere in the saner recesses of my brain I had the thought, “Wait a minute, one small fart cannot be THIS bad!” and that’s when I saw that we were passing Albany, Oregon, and that it was the famously putrid-smelling paper mill and not me that was causing this horrendous odor.