A police car went by with its siren going, a rotary slurping noise, it sounded like the blender in their kitchen—she made fruit shakes compulsively that they felt morally bound to drink.

To find some mistake is not an achievement  of an individual as well it doesn't define his wisdom or  intelligence..

It was you Nabi, she said in my ear. It was always you. Didn't you know?

The rooms were small and airless and cramped. To make matters worse, somebody in our group was making the most dreadful silent farts. Fortunately, it was me, so I wasn’t nearly as bothered as the others.

Written By Bill Bryson

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