Picture this: I’m at a quiet coffee shop, sipping latte, and a sneeze turns into a full‑blown jazz flare. I start waving my arms like a wild drummer, the barista freezes, then I pull a hat out of my pocket, drop a beat, and boom the whole crowd is doing a conga line, even the barista starts spinning a sugar cone like a disco ball. The cat on the counter jumps in, the espresso machine starts drumming its own rhythm, and I’m in the middle, shouting “Encore!” while everyone’s laughing and dancing, and we end with a selfie that makes me the unofficial DJ of the town.