Trouble in The Office

New Girl

Fanny is the new girl in town. She took the post of Junior Planner, a few months after Florence resigned. (She wanted to have a family. I noticed it’s the usual excuse nowadays.) Marian, our boss, handpicked her from a selection of three gutsy candidates. We remember that the rounds of interviews went on for weeks—it was our little group’s fear that Marian would never finish, and we would be left for dead with the avalanching workload.

Fanny, luckily, was everything we needed to take on this job. She was a fast-learner and smart; she was comfortable with numbers and understood the Office business quite well. She had a healthy sense of humor and a remarkable gift for memorizing names. Her Day One rang along “Ah, hello there, Aling Becky! Nice to see you, Ching. Have you seen Melo this morning? Oh, you know, the new products development guy?”

There was just one itsy-bitsy thing that bothered me … one insignificant little detail.

She… has… flatulence.

Sa madaling salita sa tagalog, Utot-titis.

Flatulence. I can write a long list of jokes linking Fanny and Flatulence. Fanny the Flatulent. Fanny lifts her Fanny. Fanny Fans For Air When You Say Something Funny. Fanny, That’s Not Funny, We’re in a Meeting. Fanny’s Fanny Not Allowed in the Elevator.

Fanny’s flatulence. How on earth. It’s interesting to note how she does it. Early in the morning, I hear a faint muffled sound of muscles flapping against fabric in surging air. It starts with an “f” sound – fffff ... then after a few seconds, it breaks into a trombonic ffffwwwwwot!! Come to think of it, the more amazing thing is how Fanny figured out that the hum of the air-conditioner drowns out the sound.

When the air conditioner gets switched off (everyday at 4:30 PM sharp; another cost-saving initiative brought to you by our fine friends at finance), she dislodges truckloads of air by walking around the floor. You won’t be able to hear it, but oh my dear, you can smell what could probably have been in a gas chamber, as it ever so faintly drifts into your cubicle.

My sisters actually have a term for people who fart while walking. They call them “nag-pu-plup-plup-plup.” And at 4:30PM, Fanny starts “plup-plup-plup-ping” in the marketing hallway, her stiletto heels disguising the “plups” with their rhythmic pacing.

In one of Fanny’s walks, I once heard Carlos the copywriter declare – “Finally!! No more energy crisis!!! The source of Bio-gas has been found!!!”

Fanny’s a brilliant kid. I feel sorry for her – of course flatulence was something she did not wish for her 9th birthday. But I can’t help it. I just cannot work with her without bursting into giggles or gasping for air.

posted by Elyss @ 4:56 PM