How I was inspired by tsedreyte kishkes

Anyone who has been a teenager probably has had some run in with the curse of stomach cramps.  I got nervous every time I went out with a girl.

 

One time, when I was in grade 12, I was invited to a bar mitzvah dance by a very kind Jewish girl.  We were standing at the sweet table eating fruit and cakes when the cramps hit me.

 

“Tell me about yourself,” she said.

 

I turned to answer as I was about to take a bite out of a cup cake when my stomach  rebelled.  My intestines started to twist into knots and I had a terrible urge to let that gas go.

 

I closed all the sphincters in my body tightly.  Unconsciously, I pursed my mouth in a small “o” as if I was about to speak French.

 

She started to have a concerned look on her face.

 

“Are you all right?” she asked.  “You look pale.”

 

“Fine, I’m fine,” I said.  “Just getting a little warm.”  I wiped the sweat from by brow.

 

“Listen, they’re playing a Hora.  Do you want to dance?”

 

The thought of jumping about and shaking up my kishkes did not appeal to me, so I excused myself “for a sec.”

 

When she looked away, I broke into a trot and then dashed to the bathroom, jumped into stall, closed the door and let out all the gas that had been building in my gut in one giant explosion.  My sigh of relief was very loud.

 

As I stepped out of the cubicle, you probably already know, I saw three of the guys who had been sitting at our table looking at me as if I had just descended from Mars.   Then they burst into howls of laughter.   I was mortified. 
 

I returned to the table where I found my date.  She looked up at me smiling. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the guys coming back to the table with their dates.

 

I grabbed my date’s hand and said, “Hey, let’s dance some more.   I pulled her out onto the dance floor.  “But the music hasn’t started yet,” she objected.   “We’ll be ready for it when comes on then,” I replied
 

She came and said, “I haven’t seen you this enthusiastic all night.”  Then, as the music came on, “Let’s rock and roll.” 
 

I managed to keep her from sitting down all evening.  When it was time to go, I went with her and her parents to their car.   I was worried about having to sit in the car with them while my stomach still rumbled.  “You know, on crisp clear evenings like this, sometimes, I just love to run,” I said, dropped her hand and ran the 100 yards to the car where I turned and faced her and her parents and let out as much gas as quietly and quickly as I could.

 

I had a big smile on my face when they reached me.
 

She smiled at me in return.  “You’re such a funny guy,” she said.  “You’re unpredictable, sometimes quiet, sometimes a dancing fiend, sometimes a laid back talker and sometimes so full of boundless energy.”
 

She reached up and kissed me and squeezed my hand.  

 

I think she was admiring my physical energy after dancing all evening.   I owed the whole success of this date to her kindness and to the inspiration I received from what are known in Yiddish as “Tsedreyte kishkes”.

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