As I sat waiting for a prescription at the pharmacy reading a book on my iPod Touch, an elderly guy approached. “You’ll get warts on your thumbs from that thing,” he informed me, farting luxuriously as he walked past. When I didn’t automatically agree with him he drove the point home. “You’ll see. When it happens you’ll have to admit I told you so.”

“Ok,” I told him cheerfully, and went back to reading my book.