I worked as a lifeguard at a major state park along the Pacific Ocean surf for four years while in college. Each season a new crop of teens would show up. In my second year, two young girls who identified themselves to be High School students, came by the stand to say hello. I was sweeping out the stand.

One of them held out her hand for me to shake it in a greeting, then, the second, a very pretty girl in short cropped curly blonde hair and sky blue eyes, held out her hand and had to take a step up to get closer to the stand. As she stepped up, the largest sounding fart I ever heard, one that squealed in the last four bars, came resoundingly booming from the sweet girl.

She turned beet red and apologized profusely. I told her that absolutely everybody farts, so, no problem. This seemed to calm her down.

I did not see her again until the next summer and she looked even better, reminding me of our first meeting the year before but I had not forgotten. To make a long story short, that is how I met my wife. It turned out not to be a "Gone with the wind" story.