Kalah Allen

I WAS ATTENDING my company’s monthly “team building outing” when I first felt it. A rumble in my tummy that was indicative of my worst fear: bubble guts. In a public place. In a public place filled with my coworkers. As quickly as I could, I slipped out and walked around the city, farting my way around the Pearl. I made the mistake of stepping into Powell’s, and the worst of the worst started to hit me just as I reached the Pearl Room. My apologies to anyone I gassed out of there. I thought about getting out of there, but I was really enjoying catching up on the latest in the musician biography section. To the attendants of the Rare Book Room: It was me. I’m not sorry. I understand I probably depreciated the value of most of those books, but in my defense, they were already sort of overpriced. —Anonymous