A guy my mother was dating at the time and I are walking through downtown. It's a weekday, so most people are at work, leaving the area rather empty. In the distance, I see a woman sitting at a bus stop. She's having a very, in-depth conversation with someone about various subjects. World structures, societal pressures, moral philosophies, and the like.

The angle we're walking at, I can't see the person she's talking to. Curious, I slowly start maneuvering my paces a bit to the left, so that the guy and I are set to walk in front of the bus stop, instead of behind.

I then see that, there is nobody there but the aforementioned woman; her only company was a half-empty, 7Up^® bottle.

The guy takes notice, and warns me,

"Don't stare."

But it was too late, as my eyes were glued to this newfound experience. So much so, that my gaze began to burn a hole through the woman's skull, as she pardoned herself from the bottle, and turned to me:

"Excuse me. Do you mind?"

Broken by the spell I was under, I replied,

"Oh, no; by all means, continue."

She took exception to that, and made a point of waiting until we were long out of comprehendible earshot to resume.

We were silent for some time, until I blurted out,

"But why was it 7Up^®, specifically?"

He sighed,

"The content of that bottle probably wasn't 7Up^®."