I'd like people to read this title and think, " You?! Mean?! Never!!"
But I am sure a few people might read that and not even question it. To those people I say, I AM A NICE PERSON, WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?? YOU'RE THE MEAN ONE!
Just kidding.
Kinda.
But on the rare occasion that I am (what I like to call) accidentally mean, I can vouch for it / take ownership/and admit my faults begrudgingly ... when no one is looking.
This short example of accidental meanness occurred about a week into Friendcation 2015, whilst exploring the Colosseum. My friends and I decided to forgo a human-guided-tour, popped in our earbuds (like the true millennials we are) and listen to Rick Steves' rendering of the historical site, instead.
For those of you who do not know who Rick Steves is ... in short, he is the OG of Travel. Just check out that gif.
It is the first that comes up.
And the only one.
But that's all he needs.
He truly has a way with words and his voice can only be described as, "one people would follow to the ends of the earth" or in our case, around the Colosseum.
Now, because Italians... as well as the rest of the world... eat at very different times and less frequently than us Americans, we had not been able to take our 53rd food break ahead of the tour, so I was a tad bit hangry. As we walked through the ancient ruins in 103 degree weather, I tried to let Steve's voice and his poetic descriptions of animals ripping up gladiators center stage keep me from thinking about food. And air-conditioning. And food.
But it was no use. I was hot and hangry and no one was going to keep me from that necessary emotion.
With intrigue and a deteriorating smile on my face, I continued to meander around, taking pictures and avoiding head-on collisions with about 1,000 tour groups that had come to visit the site, just like us.
After about an hour, I felt confident that I had gotten every single angle of the former vomitorium (aka Colosseum), except a panorama. So obviously my work wasn't done.
I had found the PERFECT spot to take the picture: shoved into a crevice, far enough away from the scene so my phone camera could take it all in. The only trick was, I had to wait until there was a clearing of fellow tourists so my camera could travel across the view with no one's head in the way.
So I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
Until it seemed that everybody and their grandma has passed me twice, kept going, and then decided to come back around one more time in front of my camera, just for good measure.
Anyway, finally there was a break and I took the opportunity. *Click*
Starting from the left, steady as an eagle (?), I panned my camera toward the right. Smooth and calm. Capturing the old crumbling murder house one pixel at a time. I was going to get this shot!
I already knew where the image was going on my wall of travel pictures: smack dab in the center. Duh.
Pulitzer Prize winner? Who? Me?
Yes.
Perfection!
Until . . .
Ok, so to be honest, the angle of this picture wasn't exactly perfect. And people would have been in the picture either way... but that's not what I thought at the time. Instead, in a fit of hanger, I thought: THIS dude blatantly walked through my shot to ruin my day!
I was (un)rightfully appalled at his audacity. Like... I was taking a picture! ...At one of the most famous and populated sites in all of Italy! How dare he walk around the Colosseum like the rest of everyone else and get in my picture??
So without thinking, I muttered rather loudly, "Jerk." and stood there to fume silently as he passed.
Did I try taking another shot like a normal person would have done and get over it? Nah! Not the Over-reacter of 2015!
After a minute of cooling off in my crevice in the Colosseum, I decided to walk back toward my friends, in hopes that they would say, Let's go eat!
As I walked by a similar crevice to the one I had been in a moment ago... there stood the guy, who bashfully looked up and said (in English, because he was American, not Italian like I assumed .... though why would an Italian be at the Colosseum?), "Sorry about that."
I was, in a word, mortified. I felt like people should be flanking me on either side shouting:
Who was I ?! That guy didn't deserve the wrath of my hanger. And even if he had been Italian ... most countries in the world have citizens who are bilingual. And in most of those countries, it is in English. So he would have understood my insult.
And although calling a stranger a jerk may seem like nothing.... it is something that I am ashamed I did, and would never do again. Even if someone photobombed a picture of me and Barack Obama. #dreams , I am now hyper-aware of being kind to all, no matter how impolite their walking paths may be.
Also, it doesn't hurt to note that this guy was like a mixture of Adrian Grenier and Vance Joy with Jon Snow hair. So I will accept his apology with much humility in hopes that he somehow knows I am sorry and that I am single. And would redo the whole scenario over with a much kinder attitude. Call me?
Yeah, so moral of the story: If anyone knows this guy. Set a sister up. And also, eat. So you're not hangry.
And be kind. Always.
The end.
Skål xx
