Crackin' a Bag-a-Chips

Some farts smell like potato chips.
I've noticed this since I was a kid. I used to call them "potato chip farts".
Out of all types of farts, this is probably the least offensive. It's not a "bean burrito fart" or a "too much salsa" fart or an "oops, I over-did-it on the soy products again" foul fart.
It's just a generic, "I had to fart and I farted" type of fart.
I have a feeling that girls have potato chip farts more than guys, but I really have no evidence to back this up.
My first memory of the Potato Chip Fart was of my good friend Kelly, when I was about eight years old.
"Oh," I'd think to myself, after catching a wiff, "That's one of those potato-chip-smelling farts."
They aren't even BAD. Sure the notion that they were born out of someone's rectum is repulsive and make them bad by default - technically, they are really no more offensive then sniffing a big old bag of Humpty Dumpty regular salted chips.
Potato Chip Farts have pros and cons...one problem:
I'm not sure how in tune others are to the Potato chip fart...
This can cause "Fart Confusion".
See - I've cracked a bag of chips before - and instantly - I'm hit with an overwhelming smell of what I now associate with farts.
Instantly I raise an eyebrow, eyeing up whatever social function I am at - wondering which fucker had the audacity to let one rip and then just sit there, socializing, mingling - perhaps a glass of wine in hand - as if nothing ever happened, wafting in the cloud of their own fart, almost pleased with themselves that everyone else has to as well.
Then I glance down and I smile.
Of course! I just opened a bag of chips!
But then I'm worried.
What if someone near me has not made the correlation between farts and a freshly opened bag of chips?
What if someone else is secretly eyeing up the function, trying to locate the source of the fart - and they zero in on me???
"Look at that fucker, farting and stuffing his face with chips. No shame. No shame, I say!"
Fighting the urge to say "It wasn't me...it was the chips," I usually just walk away, quietly - resigned to the fact that I will be known as the guy who silent-farted the circle of friends at the party.
Of course - you can use "Fart Confusion" to your advantage. If you are at a party, and you have to let one rip - make a b-line for the snack area and crack a bag of chips.
The smell should absorb your real fart - and if anyone gives you any questionable looks, you can say: "Wow...have you ever noticed how much a bag of freshly opened chips smells like farts? SMELL THIS SHIT!" and then shove the bag in their face.
It's a great way to diffuse a stinky situation.
The other day, Life Partner - eyes slanted and enchanted from herbal self-medication - was going through a gigantic mound of snack foods like a hurricane. Suddenly, he stopped, mid-crunch - looked me dead in the eye and said - with disgust in his voice: "Did you fuckin' FART?!?!"
"NO!" I immediately shot back, furious that he would suggest such a thing.
Yes - normally - I am the one who farts audibly in the house.
As a matter of fact, in our 8+ years together, I don't believe I have EVER even HEARD Life Partner so much as lightly break wind.
It is usually me. Ten out of ten times in fact.
But when I am innocent - damn it - I am INNOCENT!
Before the argument escalated into a full on domestic 911 call, Life Partner burst out laughing.
"What?" I asked, sniffing the air, angry now, realizing yes indeed - someone did fart, which would make my plea of not-guilty that much less convincing.
I instantly assumed this was one of those rare cases where he actually DID fart - and he was going to try to pin it on me. I was going to have NONE of it!
None.
But Life Partner was now giggling hysterically.
"Nevermind," He said, pointing to a bag of Ruffles. "It was the chips."
See? Even I got duped by that questionable smell emanating from a bag of dehydrated potatoes and salt.
I discovered I am not alone in making the connection between the Fart and the Chip about ten years back, while I was playing one of my favourite games.
One of the ways I used to torture my friends when we were out at the mall was to stand in line with them when they are waiting to buy something - and I fart.
As soon as the horrendous smell hits - I say to them "I"m gonna go wait outside," and I shine the biggest smile possible.
My shopping-buddy is then left in line, standing in the fog of it, red-faced and boiling mad while everyone else in line assumes it was them.
Most of the time, they drop their purchase and leave, cursing the day I was born, while I kill myself laughing.
One time, I was with two friends - and I gave my token "I'll be outside line," and giggled.
My friend Nancy turned to my friend Ken and asked "What's he so smug about?"
At the time, Ken's nick name for me was Slutta. Endearing, isn't it?
"Ugh," Ken said, rolling his eyes. "I think Slutta just opened a mother-fuckin' bag of chips!"
I was almost on the FLOOR! Never before had I heard anyone else refer to it that way. I had tears streaming down my face.
And yes - my friend Nancy - she opted OUT of her purchase.
The second Ken said "opened a mother-fuckin' bag of chips" - she knew exactly what he meant, and she aborted mission and left the store, saving herself embarassment.
It's good to be aware of the Potato Chip Fart...and now - you are too.
So the next time you're at a party, or you're home alone or with a few friends or family watching some movies, and you or someone near your cracks a bag of chips...take a whiff in the air.
And then ask, with a dead serious tone:
"Alright, seriously...which one of you fuckers just farted?"
It's one of those small, simple pleasures in life - and it makes snack time oh so much more fun!
Hopefully - you'll NEVER look at a bag of Lays or a tube of Pringles the same way again.
There really wasn't any point to this little rant today. But perhaps the next time you're in a convenience store, or grocery store and you're in the chip aisle, you'll see MORE than just chips.
You'll see weapons.
You'll think outside the box. Or in this case, outside the bag.
Or maybe...you'll just smile a wee little bit...and think of me.
Whichever works!

Hearts and Potato Chip Farts,

Dan.