While waiting to board a flight out of the Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport, I was seated directly across from a guy who was passing the time by reading a book — an actual book — titled The Happiness Advantage. A second guy approached and sat two seats away from Happiness Guy and immediately made a phone call to his colleague, Jess. He spoke very loudly to Jess, and it wasn’t the kind of loud that you speak out of anger, nor was it the kind of loud you speak when someone is hard of hearing and you raise your voice so they can hear you; rather it was the kind of loud that someone speaks when they simply must let everyone within earshot know that their business is so important that it must be transacted at top volume. Phone Guy was explaining to Jess why he felt it best that another of their colleagues, Roger, not be present at an upcoming meeting. He went on and on, repeatedly repeating what he’d just repeated. Yes, just like that. Only louder. Happiness Guy shot a look toward Phone Guy, but Phone Guy was too busy badmouthing Roger to notice. Happiness Guy clearly was not happy; he obviously did not have the advantage. He finally slammed his book shut, stuffed it in his backpack and began furiously typing on his phone — I’m guessing he was texting someone to vent his frustrations about Phone Guy.
Situations like this occur all the time. Earlier this year, while on a train out west, Steve and I — and many of our fellow passengers — were seated in an observation car, which is filled with windows and comfy seating, designed especially for allowing travelers to enjoy the scenery. It’s a laid-back space, where people tend to visit back and forth and get to know one another, where everyone gets excited when some form of wildlife is spotted, where people take lots of pictures of the views. But one woman (and as we in the South say, bless her heart) was so absorbed in a phone conversation with her daughter and granddaughter — on speaker, no less — that she might just as well have been shut up in the train restroom, for all the good the views were doing her. In fact, many of us in the observation car would have preferred that she be the restroom — or anywhere else where we wouldn’t have been subject to her chit-chat. And this particular call wasn’t a one-off. It happened with a couple different family members.
Obviously, this isn’t something that I (and many of you, I’m guessing) have encountered only while traveling. It happens all the time — in the grocery store, a local restaurant or even the waiting area in a doctor’s office. In some cases (listen up, Phone Guy), I think people are so self-important that they think the rest of us will actually be impressed by their conversations. In other cases (Train Lady), it seems to me that people are just so self-absorbed that they’re oblivious when it comes to the comfort of others.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Yes, I do talk on my phone — but almost never inside a public space; when possible, I step outside to talk. And when that’s not possible, I move to the most private area I can find and speak as softly as I can. It’s not that hard to do. It’s common courtesy. And it makes everyone’s travels — whether across the United States or just across town — more enjoyable.
