Irritable People

Yesterday I had a chance to observe two situations where the best of human nature wasn’t on display.

We went on a guided tour of the Colosseum which turned out to be well worth the money.  While waiting in the agency for the tour in English to begin, I noticed a woman who seemed to be complaining to her husband about all sorts of things.  I couldn’t hear it all, but I could see her facial expressions and his reactions.  He kept trying to calm her down.

Eventually the tour in Spanish was announced.  I knew the English tour was to leave at the same time.  People started to get in line, including the irritable lady, her husband and a child who was with them.  At one point, someone stepped in front of her in line.  Her reaction was immediate and aggressive, “Excuse me!  Why would you push in ahead of me in a que?”  The person responded that they were just trying to stay with their group.

When the cranky lady, who I think was Australian, got up to the desk and was told that a security deposit was required for the radio and headset that would allow her to hear the tour guide, she refused.  The deposit was either 20 Euros or the driver’s license of someone in the group.   Although it was clear that anyone without one would have difficulty hearing the guide, she refused for herself and her husband and child.

Her nagging complaints continued throughout the tour, and they eventually left the tour early.  I’m not sure how her husband tolerates her.

The second situation involved an Asian couple who came into the restaurant in which we ate last evening.  It was not a fancy place, but it was clean, and the waitress was pleasant.  She spoke minimal English, and we speak no Italian, but we worked through the ordering process and enjoyed our meal.  The couple, who were seated where Bill and I could both see them, apparently had more difficulty.  They ordered soup, but wanted to split it between them, and had difficulty expressing that they wanted a second bowl, so they could share.  They did eventually get the second bowl.  They ordered wine and the waitress had a problem opening the bottle.  She set the bottle aside….I assumed for someone else to open….but didn’t get back to them immediately.

When we entered the restaurant it had been empty, but it had rapidly filled up and she was busy.  We had to wait a bit to order gelato and receive our check, but it wasn’t a terrible wait.  I guess the wait was longer than the couple could tolerate, as they got up with angry expressions and left.  On the table was the uneaten pizza and soup for which they didn’t pay.

Bill commented, “Why would you go into a foreign country, where you don’t speak the language, and expect not to have any difficulties?” 

We have run into a couple of people who have seemed annoyed that we don’t know Italian, but most have been gracious and done their best to be accommodating.

Now for the confession as to my own irritability!  When we went through the security check in New Delhi, we had already been through security in Watertown, Philadelphia, London, and Rome.  No one had said a word about anything in my purse that was banned.  But this time, my purse got pulled aside, and I was informed that I had a scissors in my purse.  Well, yes….I knew I had a scissors….a child’s rounded-end scissors that I brought along to cut the cotton yarn on my crochet project that was to help me pass the time on flights.  It was NOT sharp.  I couldn’t see how it could be used as a weapon and had been through security checks 4 times without a problem.  I protested.  The guard just shrugged and said, “No scissors, the rule.”  I surrendered them unhappily.  Bill said he was afraid I was going to “lose it” and he didn’t mean the scissors.  I was at that point totally exhausted from the travel, and it seemed so unreasonable.  Yes…I was the irritable one.  Whether I was sufficiently irritable for anyone to notice and mention on a blog, I don’t know.

I did do better when security at the Taj Mahal took my diary away.  I had one of those blank books in my purse and had been writing in it about our travels.  Security at the Taj Mahal informed me I couldn’t take it inside.  No explanation.  Even our tour guide was mystified.  Bill actually got annoyed about that and protested, because he was afraid I wouldn’t get it back. 

We all have our moments.