Paris—BHV (Bazar de l'Hotel de Ville)

Trapped in an elevator. Chess and I are on the 5th floor of the BHV and decide to go downstairs in the elevator. The doors open, we get in, it stinks. There's a sweaty overweight guy who is standing near the door and who, thank god, gets off at the top floor. Then a massive amount of people get in and the two of us find ourselves sort of squished against the back of the elevator. And then the unimaginable happens: someone breaks wind! It might've stank earlier but this time it smelled like someone sold their ass to the devil. Halfway between the fifth and the fourth floor I said to Chess, out loud, "we are getting off at the next floor!" As I tried to wade through the crowd I said "ce n'est pas gentil!"(that's not nice). The old lady I passed by said "il faut savoir supporter" (one has to bear it). mmmmhhm... HELL NO, I ain't inhaling no fart! I ain't sharing no old lady's "good manners"!