Jack and Jill

Secure in their anonymity as dictated by the separation of customer and employee, Jack and Jill stand in the canned fruit aisle. Jack is replenishing a particularly bare section of shelving. Jill is undecided between the sliced peaches or the cut peaches when she abruptly blushes. A hand has fluttered to her lips.

Jack turns to her with a smile, “It’s a normal bodily function. When it demands to be heard, it is heard.”

Jill vehemently shakes her head. “It’s just something you don’t do in public!” She wrings her hands. “You resort to the privacy of your restroom, or somewhere with nobody around.” She wrinkles her nose.

“Then, ma’am,” shrugs Jack, “I must apologize for such a blatant  disregard of courtesy and,” he sniffed, “aromatic sensibility.”

“Why?” Jill asks. “You weren’t the one who… oh.”

She giggles. Jack shakes his head.

“Boy, I’ve heard of simultaneous orgasms,” he says, “but this is a first for simultaneous flatulence!” This time it is his turn to blush; he has spoken his thoughts aloud, and for him the discussion of intimate matters contains more opportunity for personal embarrassment than the discharge of bodily humours. Jill just can’t stop giggling.

The next year they are married, and Jill, still as sensible about appropriate public hygiene, exclaims with exasperation “What are we going to tell our children when they ask how we met?!”


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