Oh, my god, I have one -- and it's a fart story, too.
My freshman year of college, I got placed with a roommate that I could not have had less in common with. It's not that we fought, exactly. I just found her incredibly irritating, so I struggled to be friendly and kind to her whenever we were both there.
One evening, it was probably about eleven-thirty. I was listening to music in the room, lying on a small couch with my face to the wall. She came in, and since I didn't want to talk to her, I pretended I was asleep.
Out of the blue, without me having any idea it was going to happen, I ripped the longest, loudest fart of my life. It just escaped. Which was kind of amazing, because who the hell doesn't know a fart is coming and can't at least try to control it? But there it is. It was loud, and long, and the only sound in the room other than the music.
And because I was pretending to be asleep, I had to do nothing -- couldn't laugh, couldn't apologize, couldn't do anything. I had to just lay there, trying really hard not to burst into embarrassed laughter, as she got undressed and went to sleep.
So embarrassing, but also in a way it kind of "couldn't" be embarrassing, because as far as she knew, I didn't know about it. So, Katie, if you're out there, thirty-two years later: sorry about that fart.