The Elevator Poot

Poor Fabulous CoWorker's desk was crop-dusted today by one of our supervisors, (who clearly has no shame) who then ambled off, leaving Fabulous CoWorker to be blamed for the offense by all who happened into the vicinity for the next 5 or so minutes. UNTHINKABLE!
I seem to be the victim of a similar maneuver on a fairly frequent basis in elevators.
Perhaps it is because I use them so much, both at work and at home, that it is just statistically bound to happen to me more often than others, or maybe I just built up some powerful-bad Fart karma in a past life.

Either way, at least once a week I step on to an elevator, select my desired floor, and just at the moment the door has closed too much for me to bolt off the car, BAM! I smell THAT smell.
That unmistakable smell that sends me into an embarrassed panic begging God (who I am sure has PLENTY of time to worry about smelly elevators) to just NOT let anyone else get on but inevitably the doors open at the next floor and on comes another passenger - only they don't think SOMEONE pooted in that 'vader.. no no, they think I did.
The ride until my chosen floor slows down to a crawl, days seem to pass in the lingering stank of the elevator car, just myself and the other smirking rider, staring at the floor, judging me - ready to tell the story to the first friend or acquaintance seen.
The next time you even consider breaking the wind in a lonely elevator, just remember, it is NOT a victimless crime - others will suffer the shame of your poot..
What goes around comes around, and I suspect that Fart Karma can be a real bitch.