To the phantom fluffer on my tram this evening - please refrain from passing wind in my presence in future. I find it distressing, not to mention CONFUSING. Like where were you? You kept moving, wafting in and out of range so that I couldn't quite pin you down. I turned to the left and you were there, so I turned to the right and there you were again, waiting for me. I can't escape you, yet you remain faceless.
Do I need to start carrying a packet of Redheads around with me? I hope not; I really hope you just had a bad curry at lunchtime.