I apologized profusely and was about to find a receptacle in which to dispose of the water when she asked if I would drink it. Without a moment’s hesitation I obliged by taking a big swig under her watchful gaze. It was less than tepid and tasted like a liquid sock, but I smiled nonetheless at her, as if to say, See, it’s not a flammable liquid, nor is it a poison. It’s just water. She thanked me and I placed the water bottle into the gray bin.
