Don't shit where you eat

So it wasn't exactly in a restaurant, but last week as we were leaving Al Khalidiya Mall after a rather mediocre meal at Cantina Laredo ("Hi, my name is José and I'll be your server this evening") which we probably won't be visiting again anytime soon (for pete's sake -- they don't even serve margaritas!), we were waiting in the taxi queue and the following happened:

A woman and two of her friends emerged from a taxi.  She was carrying a plastic bag, the kind you get at the grocery store.  It had things in it, presumably not of any (further) value to her.  Some combination of tract variables led to her grip on the bag becoming progressively looser, until the limit of grip was reached.

And the bag fell.

Pretty uninteresting, eh?  Of course you're thinking "big deal -- a woman dropped her bag, had to bend down and pick it up, and went on her merry way."

And you'd be right, of course.  Except for the fact that she didn't pick it up.

As she was walking away with her friends, I stood there alternating my stare between the dropped bag of rubbish and the young woman.  She noticed and started speaking rather nervously to her pals.  But she didn't come back to pick up her garbage.

To protect the innocent (me) I won't say what nationality this litterer was.

But it rhymes with "Maserati."