Somebody “pooted” in Zumba class on Saturday… and let me start by saying it was not me.

About halfway through the hour long class, we were doing choreography where we turned in a circle with one leg in the air. I made my turn and by the time I was facing the mirrors again, I wanted to gag.

Something you should know about me is that I’m a bit prissy when it comes to bodily functions. A lot of my friends have the “everybody does it” mentality when it comes to matters of the tummy, I do not. When Robert tries to talk about poop or farting, I just look at him with doe eyes and say “I don’t do that, sorry” he just laughs and rolls his eyes.

Sometimes I wonder if I’d have an easier time with “tummy talk” if I were skinny. I mean, when Cameron Diaz burps and farts, somehow its cute. On the other hand how many movies and TV shows have we seen where fat people fart… and fart… and fart? How many times is that the punchline for fat-suit humor? Its referenced so much that I think people assume its true.

When I was a chubby little PSP, I remember being in a group on the floor with my classmates. Out of nowhere someone cried out “ew, CeCe!” I had no idea what they were blaming me for– until a foul odor permeated our area. Someone had pooted and again, it was not me. But somehow when the smell hit the air, it was my name that the kids called.

Last year, I was a counselor for a church youth trip. On the charter bus as the kids were drifting off to sleep, I went to adjust my seat but the latch was broken. It sent the back of my seat flying into the lap of one of the girls and I said “oh excuse me!”, what I didn’t realize is that in the silence of the drowsy bus the seat also made a “farting noise”. So me saying “oh excuse me!” sent the teens into a fit of laughter. I, of course, was mortified.

As a Plus Size Princess, when someone farts anonymously, I get anxious that everyone assumes it was me. (Does anyone else feel this way? or am I just too prissy for my own sanity?)

Anyway, back to the “Zumba Poot”. Long after the smell was gone, I found that my annoyance was still hanging in the air. The class was packed and I was towards the back, so it could have been anyone but as I continued dancing, my annoyance just didn’t go away. Maybe it was the blood flowing to my brain from Zumba that made me so clear headed about the whole thing… I knew I didn’t poot and that’s all that mattered.

Living in NYC, I’m learning that people love to fart in a crowd. Zumba class… a crowded subway train… in line at the grocery store. Even though I feel like everyone looks at me, there’s nothing I can do about it.

I guess I could yell out “IT WASN’T ME!”, but that would just be weird.