It was about 8:45 p.m. on Feb. 11. Me: 5-9'ish white guy, 20s, scruffy beard, grey hoodie, black jacket. You -- about the same. I don't think you were wearing a hoodie. You were definitely white.
Anyway, we passed on Alder St., in between Highland and Shady. I was walking toward the latter, you toward the former.
You farted. You farted long, and you farted hard. I laughed longer and harder than your fart, but neither of us stopped. Two ships passed in the night, and one farted.
I didn't want to turn around. I wanted our laughter to be enough. I wanted to know that it was possible to have a moment in life, however brief, that is absolutely perfect. I hope I didn't make a mistake, and I hope to hear from you soon. We should literally be best friends.