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Sep. 27th, 2011 11:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupSo the story of the woman who thought I was going to Rhode Island isn't all that complex.
...he says, and then wonders how he reached this point in his life.
I had bought a breakfast pastry in the airport this morning because I had three hours to kill before my flight, and I was sitting at, let's call it Gate B10. This wasn't my gate, because I had THREE HOURS to kill, but it was near my gate and it had empty seats at the long bar-tables Midway Airport boasts.
So I'm sitting there at this bar-table, eating my pastry, and a woman walks up to me and says, "Rhode Island?"
"Beg pardon?" I ask.
"Is this the gate for the flight to Rhode Island?"
"Oh, I don't know, it's not my gate," I say, and here is where the crucial misunderstanding, I think, took place. I think she made an assumption that I was going to Rhode Island but wasn't at my gate. "What gate did the ticket agent tell you?"
"Gate B10."
"Well, you're at B10," I tell her, and assume that's the end of it. But no, because I have an invisible talk to me aura, she says "It's not listed yet, maybe we're too early" and goes into this detailed description of how she was going to take a shuttle to the airport, but her husband insisted on driving her -- there was some kind of husband logic involved, but I was busy boggling at the level of information this woman was pouring out to me, a complete stranger, someone not even traveling to Rhode Island. A description of her breakfast was involved.
But I've developed some new dealing-with-strangers social skills in the past few months of Adventuring to supplant my usual "break eye contact, mutter, and run away". One of them is the "actually listen and respond like a human being when someone overshares with me" technique, which works well on elderly museum docents and hamburger cooks. The other is the "remind yourself you don't care what this person thinks of you, and do what makes you happy" technique, which works on -- well, technically everyone, but I only use it on people who approach me when I'm on public transit, usually. That level of disrespect must be earned.
If I had been less startled or significantly less "in an airport", I would probably have asked her about Rhode Island and learned something fun about a state I've never visited. Did you know they had a vampire? Google "Mercy Brown" and hit me back.
But I wasn't, so I decided to just stare at this woman in patient, visible surprise, like I couldn't believe what she was doing. When she just kept going, I finished my pastry, got up, and walked away while she was still talking. I assumed that would be a subtle hint that she was WAY OVERSHARING WITH SOMEONE WHOSE NAME SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW.
But apparently she thought we were going to our gate. To go to Rhode Island!
So she followed me to the water fountain, then into a shop where I bought a Snickers bar, and then to my gate. Where she sat down next to me and kept talking until finally she sort of petered out and I put in my headphones.
I think possibly she left when I got up to get in line for my flight to Austin, but by then to be honest I wasn't going to dare eye contact.
I genuinely hope she made her flight to Rhode Island. I mean I don't feel good about leading her on a merry chase round an annex of Midway Airport. On the other hand, she brought it upon herself. Even if I were to be trusted, which I clearly am not, she had no way of knowing that. Plus her manners were atrocious. You're getting on an airplane, come prepared or go home. Don't depend on the kindness of strangers, fuckwit, it's the twenty-first century! You have Google, look it up! Take control of your life. I already have more life than I can handle, I don't need yours too.
I should visit Rhode Island sometime, though. Apparently they have lovely beaches.
...he says, and then wonders how he reached this point in his life.
I had bought a breakfast pastry in the airport this morning because I had three hours to kill before my flight, and I was sitting at, let's call it Gate B10. This wasn't my gate, because I had THREE HOURS to kill, but it was near my gate and it had empty seats at the long bar-tables Midway Airport boasts.
So I'm sitting there at this bar-table, eating my pastry, and a woman walks up to me and says, "Rhode Island?"
"Beg pardon?" I ask.
"Is this the gate for the flight to Rhode Island?"
"Oh, I don't know, it's not my gate," I say, and here is where the crucial misunderstanding, I think, took place. I think she made an assumption that I was going to Rhode Island but wasn't at my gate. "What gate did the ticket agent tell you?"
"Gate B10."
"Well, you're at B10," I tell her, and assume that's the end of it. But no, because I have an invisible talk to me aura, she says "It's not listed yet, maybe we're too early" and goes into this detailed description of how she was going to take a shuttle to the airport, but her husband insisted on driving her -- there was some kind of husband logic involved, but I was busy boggling at the level of information this woman was pouring out to me, a complete stranger, someone not even traveling to Rhode Island. A description of her breakfast was involved.
But I've developed some new dealing-with-strangers social skills in the past few months of Adventuring to supplant my usual "break eye contact, mutter, and run away". One of them is the "actually listen and respond like a human being when someone overshares with me" technique, which works well on elderly museum docents and hamburger cooks. The other is the "remind yourself you don't care what this person thinks of you, and do what makes you happy" technique, which works on -- well, technically everyone, but I only use it on people who approach me when I'm on public transit, usually. That level of disrespect must be earned.
If I had been less startled or significantly less "in an airport", I would probably have asked her about Rhode Island and learned something fun about a state I've never visited. Did you know they had a vampire? Google "Mercy Brown" and hit me back.
But I wasn't, so I decided to just stare at this woman in patient, visible surprise, like I couldn't believe what she was doing. When she just kept going, I finished my pastry, got up, and walked away while she was still talking. I assumed that would be a subtle hint that she was WAY OVERSHARING WITH SOMEONE WHOSE NAME SHE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW.
But apparently she thought we were going to our gate. To go to Rhode Island!
So she followed me to the water fountain, then into a shop where I bought a Snickers bar, and then to my gate. Where she sat down next to me and kept talking until finally she sort of petered out and I put in my headphones.
I think possibly she left when I got up to get in line for my flight to Austin, but by then to be honest I wasn't going to dare eye contact.
I genuinely hope she made her flight to Rhode Island. I mean I don't feel good about leading her on a merry chase round an annex of Midway Airport. On the other hand, she brought it upon herself. Even if I were to be trusted, which I clearly am not, she had no way of knowing that. Plus her manners were atrocious. You're getting on an airplane, come prepared or go home. Don't depend on the kindness of strangers, fuckwit, it's the twenty-first century! You have Google, look it up! Take control of your life. I already have more life than I can handle, I don't need yours too.
I should visit Rhode Island sometime, though. Apparently they have lovely beaches.
