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After dating the same guy for six months, I felt it was time to move to an intimate level. We planned a romantic weekend away. After a lovely dinner, we returned to the hotel. He decided to "get into something more comfortable," and retired to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he entered the room wearing a purple flannel nightgown. I almost puked. He sat down near me and starting romancing me when, believe it or not, he farted. Well, needless to say, it was goodbye, Frank! We never did make it to the bed that night. I slept on the sofa. I ended the relationship, and he wanted me to reimburse him for the hotel room. -- Sandra, 40