The Date That Cleared the Restaurant

 

The Date

Donny hadn’t eaten in two days.

So when he found that dusty can of “Mom’s Famous Chili Beans” at the back of the cupboard (best-before date: 2017), he didn’t ask questions. He heated it, inhaled it, and felt like a king.

Ten minutes later he felt like a biological weapon.

The first fart arrived at minute 10, silent but so thick it peeled the paint off the wall.

Minute 20: a wet growl that made the cat leave the country.

Minute 30: he realized the rhythm was exactly every ten minutes, like Satan’s own alarm clock.

But Donny had bigger problems: tonight was his first date with Sonia, the girl he’d been messaging for three months. She was perfect. Funny, beautiful, and (most importantly) lived 45 minutes away, which he now calculated was exactly four and a half farts.

He popped three breath mints, sprayed half a can of Axe body spray directly into his jeans, and drove to the restaurant praying for a miracle.

7:00 p.m. – They meet.

Sonia is even hotter in person. Donny’s heart does a happy flip.

His intestines do a death metal drum solo.

7:08 p.m. – First danger fart incoming.

He clenches so hard his eyes water. Sonia leans in, smiling.

“You okay? You look like you’re solving world hunger back there.”

Donny forces a grin that looks like a hostage video. “Just… excited to see you.”

7:18 p.m. – Second one.

This one fights dirty. He shifts in his seat, pretends to drop his napkin, and tries to fan it away under the table. The waiter walks by, stops, sniffs, and dies a little inside.

Sonia wrinkles her nose. “Do you smell… eggs and regret?”

Donny laughs too loud. “Old building. Probably the plumbing.”

7:28 p.m. – They’re actually hitting it off. She touches his hand. Fireworks.

Then the mother of all pressure waves rolls in. This isn’t a fart anymore. This is a prison break.

Donny stands up suddenly. “Be right back, bathroom!”

He speed-waddles toward the restrooms, clenching like his life depends on it, because it does.

But fate is cruel.

Halfway across the restaurant the timer hits zero.

BRRRRRAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!

It’s not just loud. It’s biblical. Glasses tremble. A child starts crying. The fish in the decorative tank float belly-up out of respect.

A visible green cloud blooms behind him like a cartoon stink spirit.

The entire restaurant goes dead silent.

Donny freezes, pants vibrating, face redder than the chili beans that betrayed him.

Sonia stares, mouth open.

Then, slowly, she stands up…

and starts clapping.

Slow at first. Then the whole room joins in. Someone yells, “Legend!” A guy in the corner films it on his phone. The waiter brings out a free dessert with “RIP” written in chocolate sauce.

Sonia walks over, eyes watering from laughter and fumes.

She kisses him on the cheek. “Donny, that was the most honest thing I’ve ever seen on a first date.”

They left together.

He never had to pay for dinner again, anywhere in town, ever. People just pointed and said, “That’s Fart Guy and his girlfriend. Give them the good table.”

And every anniversary, Sonia makes him the same chili beans from 2017 (she bought 50 cans on eBay).

Donny still farts every ten minutes.

But now the whole world knows:

Love means never having to say “excuse me.”

The End