Adventures in the John Wayne Airport

I'm home in California for my Christmas vacation. Before my dad starts using me as free slave labor, I thought I would regale you all with a tale of my adventures in the John Wayne Airport. As with any good adventure, I will start it off as any good story should be started...So there I was, casually walking down the baggage claim section of the airport, trying to find my baggage carousel. The sun was shining, and the wind blowing outside. Apparently some people's private wind was blowing inside too. Ladies and Gentlemen, I was the victim of crop dusting. For those not familiar with the term, its when somebody breaks wind and then walks around spreading their toxic fumes. I know who the culprit was given the fact there was only one person walking in front of me at the time. It was a short, portly, blonde woman wearing a pink velour track suit. Disrespectful. Immediately I grimaced because there is no point in hiding my emotions when falling victim to such acts. As soon as she turned toward a different carousel the smell disappeared, which only further my validation of who it was. Sweetheart, your farts don't smell of roses so please keep them to yourself or in the privacy of your car. Be aware of your surroundings and the people standing less than 10 feet behind you. Had I been holding a can of febreeze I would have sprayed you like I would my roommates.
That being said I have also dispelled the myth that women don't fluff (a term my dad was use.)
Well all of that aside, Merry Christmas everyone!