So I'm on my way to Starbucks in Adams Morgan and I see two emergency vehicles outside. Uh-oh. I go in and see a homeless-looking guy carted away by paramedics. I feel guilty about taking my favourite spot on the couch immediately after he was removed, so I move to one of the bigger tables.
Next to us at the smaller, wheelchair-accessible table are three handicapped-looking guys with a caretaker who appears to be my age. After a while I hear an incredible flatulent sound. All of us pretend not to hear it. It becomes progressively louder and more frequent as the afternoon wears on.
By the time I am ready to leave so are the four guys so I try to ask the caretaker as politely as I can what that sound is. The caretaker explains that it is something neurological and that the one guy does this when he is feeling happy. I told the caretaker I was glad his charge was happy and praised G-d that my job does not require me to chaperone flatulent-sounding guys at Starbucks.
janedoe@seductive.com
