Most people who have known me for any length of time have noticed that I have a strange fixation with pepsi.  At any given moment I am subject to one of the following conditions:
A.) Actively drinking a pepsi (most frequent)
B.) On the way to get more pepsi
or
C.) Suffering from pepsi induced acid reflux.

I am a chain pepsi drinker, generally consuming 12 or so cans a day on a light day.

One day I was at the mall and I stopped by this little news stand to buy a can of pepsi. I opened it and took a sip. I went into Walden Software to look at games which I would gauge whether they were worth stealing off usenet. I was reading something with my pepsi in my hand, when I turned and the back of my hand hit a shelf that I didn't remember being there. The pepsi can fell and landed flat on its base, causing it to spew a large puddle on the beige carpet like a miniature volcano.

My mind raced to think of a viable solution to this problem. This is when my logic center fought a quick argument against my animal instinct.
"Shit. You made a mess. Ask them for a paper towel, clean up the puddle, and apologize."
"Oh Yeah? Fuck that! This is a software store. Why the hell would they have a paper towel in here?"
"Oh damn. You're probably right. What should we do then?"
"Fuckin' RUN AWAY!"

My Fight or Flight instinct took over. I grabbed the can, which was now only 1/4 full, off the floor and my legs involuntarily started walking briskly out of the store. As I walked through the door I felt like there might have been a better solution, but this plan was already executed and was impossible to abort once underway. I made sure not to look back at the enormous puddle or the store clerks who surely thought I was completely insane by now, and would definitely remember my face after such an incident. At this point I would say I would be in full agreement with the clerks as to the condition of my mental state.

I continued walking briskly, trying not to make eye contact with anyone and trying to keep from laughing out loud at the ridiculous stunt that I unintentionally pulled. I dropped the can in the nearest garbage can, as a murderer would throw his gun in the river while fleeing the crime scene to conceal the evidence. I tried not to look conspicuous, despite the fact that I was moving at three times the pace of everyone else. I exited the mall and my smile started enlarging. As I reached my car, laughter exploded from me as though I had watched someone else do what I had just done. I drove away, feeling very much not myself.

Upon returning to the store, after several weeks of laying low, I noticed a large dark stain in the carpet. I didn't stick around. Good thing I'm moving. They don't know what I did up there.