My thoughts, in succession:
That book is HUGE! I can't imagine lugging that around with me when I traveled. She's going to have a tough time packing THAT. You know what she should have done? She should have done a little online research on where she wanted to go, got books for just THOSE places, which would be smaller and more detailed anyway. And then you could keep the France and Italy ones packed up while you were in Germany. You wouldn't be carrying information for places you weren't going to go to either. Why lug ALL of Europe around Europe? And maybe by the time she had figured out more specifically where she wanted to go, Let's Go would have published their 2010 versions. Because, Let's Admit It, everyone wants the latest edition.Oh look, she's in the Barcelona section. Should I tell her I've been there and it's amazing? Should I tell her about all the amazing things and get her (and me) really excited about Barcelona?!
Just as I was about to lean in and say something lame like, "So, you're going to Europe?" I stopped myself. And I assessed. Do I have the energy (not just physical, but emotional) for this? What are the ramifications of this friendly question?
At worst I risk getting what my friend Margaret calls the awkward nod-smile-look away sequence, temporarily bruising my ego. Only a little bit better than that is a quick chat, but one that still manages to end awkwardly, as we both wonder "when is this person getting off the bus? I don't want to keep talking and my stop is not for a while." Am I willing to risk those outcomes for the good interaction? The one where you're both happy to be shooting the breeze and there are lots of smiles, affirmations that yes! I'm okay with being in this conversation?
As I looked at her, I noticed how engrossed she was in the book (now she was in the section on Scotland, which I could also tell her I've been to!) But it turns out, it's not all about me. So I decided to refrain from saying anything and left her to read her gigantic travel guide in peace.
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Not so long ago I overheard a coworker (someone I actually KNOW, at least in passing) talking right near me about how his house had been burglarized. It seemed like such a sensational story that I decided it was okay to nose in and ask, very sympathetically, "was your house broken into?"
He turned to me, closed his eyes, uttered the most curt "yes" I've ever heard, and completely turned his back on me. OUCH! Now, I already knew this guy was a complete a-hole and hated him, but he didn't know that. Yeesh!
And so yesterday when I was on the train and glanced at this guy's crossword, noticing that 4Down was a 6-letter word starting with "br" and ending with "o," and the clue was "under sink brand," I think it was the faint echo of that recent blow that prevented me from triumphantly shouting "Brillo!!!"
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