I hate it when that happens.
Years ago, I was stationed in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia. One holiday season I volunteered to be Santa Claus at the Embassy Marines’ House. The Marines had rented a camel and planned for Santa to be sitting on the camel’s back on the bed of a pickup truck. I had to mount the camel with my bag of gifts for the little kiddies. One particularly snotty embassy brat went ballistic when the camel started braying. I had to slide off the brute, who apparently had chewed off someone’s head earlier that day and barfed all over my Gucci loafers that my mom bought for me the year before in Rome.