CJ and I went to Taste of Madison today, where the assembled restaurants and caterers of Dane county sell mini-portions of selected items at $4 a pop, and formerly anonymous members of formerly popular AOR bands play the Solid Rock Stage. (This year, anyway. Last year we got Lou Gramm!) CJ was adventurous, as usual, happily putting away half a spinach and mushroom enchilada, some Indonesian corn fritters, and half a bag of fried okra. He was in an independent mood and wanted to hold his food himself; he tried this with a take-out box of squash curry but immediately dumped most of it on the ground. Then a woman walked by and stepped in it. She started complaining to her friends and seemed pretty upset — after a second I realized that, having stepped in something kind of yellow and creamy with rice embedded in it, she thought she’d stepped in someone’s vomit. I wanted to explain the actual situation, so I called after her, “I’m sorry about that, it just happened!” but that only made her hurry away even faster, and I realized that she thought I was the one who had just vomited, and was uninterested in my apology. I hope it didn’t ruin her day.