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Not so silent but deadly

I’m at a coffee shop in Buckman waiting for my colleague. I’m seated at a booth against a wall by a window with the sun beaming warm light onto the wooden table. Probably the best seat in the house. People are socializing. Children are laughing. All is pleasant.

A woman enters the establishment with a baby carriage and b-line’s it to the table beside me. She puts her bag down on the chair. I help her shift the table over to park her carriage to the left side. She smiles and thanks me. She leaves her things and carries her baby to order. As she comes back, she side steps between my table and hers to sit on the booth side I’m on. She is shuffling the narrow space while carrying her baby with her bum facing my side of the table.
Then I hear an unexpected sound. Is someone getting a raspberry in the coffee shop? Did someone kick those springy doorstoppers that are normally in residential bedrooms? No. This lady let one rip. SHE FARTED.

You’re probably asking, But Erwin, how do you know she farted? Are you sure it sounded like a fart? Yes, yes I am sure. While the coffee shop was noisy. The decibel within my hearing range increased of the familiar noise.
But Erwin, are you sure? You need more proof. Ok. Remember that warm beaming sunlight coming through the window? There were dust particles gracefully dancing in that light the entire time. Those very visible dust particles were now violently disturbed by her gases, like a storm sweeping across and sending them into chaos. I was flabbergasted. My head went back ever so slightly after spotting all evidence. When she finally planted herself down, I turned my head left and stared at her waiting for her to acknowledge what had happened. She takes a full 7 seconds to look back at me only to display her villainous smile as if she just got away with the greatest escape in coffee house history. Not an ounce of humility could be detected. She then turns her baby towards me making the baby “hi” noises. MA’AM. No. Forget your baby. You know what you did.

(How she basically smiled at me)

Often times in this state of shock, my mind goes through flight or fight by racing through scenarios for possible outcomes in how to act. Kinda like when Dr. Strange used the Time Stone to see future possibilities. I couldn’t see one scenario where I could have her admit a plea of guilt and I charge her with the sentence of embarrassment I just experienced. However, she had done it. She got away with a well-coordinated bio attack against me at point blank range. While I couldn’t even get the conviction, seeing how well she played innocent after the crime was almost masterful. Well played, lady. Well played.

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