Do you ever want to shout in people’s faces to shut up? Do you sit there and imagine telling them off?
But my mild-mannered, conceal-your-emotions, Scandinavian upbringing does not allow for such outbursts OR bad manners.
Case in point, as we were descending into Cozumel there was some white “smoke” stuff coming off the wing on my side of the plane. Oh. Whatever. But the guy across the aisle asks the strangers one seat ahead of me, ”Did you see the vortex?”
This couple was Southern, the wife young and diminutive, the husband in starched cowboy shirt and tight jeans and both very polite. “Pardon, the what?”
“The what?” The wife briefly turns to the husband asking him if the guy is talking to them and what is he saying…
“What is a vortex…”
“It’s when the niner niner niner niner, then the wing niner niner niner…”
“Oh you mean the smoke-y stuff that was coming off the edge of the wing?”
“That wasn’t smoke. That was a vortex.”
The couple nods and just says, “Oh.”
I watch the exchange uneasily feeling the palpable awkwardness in the air. I want to tell him, “No one cares about the vortex.”
But you just don’t do that unless you are someone like Donald Trump.
Then I was in line at Immigration and was having a very meaningful conversation about this older couple whose son who was getting married that week on the island and how nice that was, and how yes you can use the hotel tap water to brush your teeth, and make sure you go out and see the east side of the island and yes you can walk around at night safely etc… And butting into some other people’s conversation behind me came, “Did you see the vortex?”