More Like a Middle Name

Flatulence.  It may well have been his middle name.  Ornell was actually his middle name, but practically speaking it didn't fit.  John Ornell McKinley.  Ornell sounded like someone with a low tooth count but even lower IQ.  And that wasn't this Ornell at all.  He was in the top five percent of his pre-med class at the University of Washington.  He was on a fast track to neurosurgery.  He was captain of the lacrosse team.  But, for all intents and purposes, he was flatulence, the living embodiment of an underactive digestive system and for that he truly was sorry.

He couldn't count on even ten hands how many times he committed some sort of social faux pas, typically involving the passing of gas.  In the elevator, at a dinner party, in class, meeting his future mother-in-law.  They were all there.  Almost every conceivable social setting and Ornell had crapped them all.

He considered moving to some obscure culture that perceived farting as normal public behavior, but he could find none.  He tried changing his diet, but nothing seemed to work.  Then it came to him, the answer of all mother answers.  This one trick would be the cure all.
It didn't work.  So he moved to Bolivia.