You need to go back and read that title in the voice of which ever wicked witch of the one way or the other who delivered that line in The Wizard of Oz.
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
So, when I’m travel weary, I begin to lose whatever tolerance I’ve built up over time and experience to cultural differences.
Okay, to a few in particular.
Two I’ve got an urge to name right now as I blog via iPhone and free WiFi from the airport on Moscow’s south side.
1. Lots of people don’t have the same concept of taking turns and lining up as I do. I practically had to foul a woman from three rows back as we deplaned so I could get off the plane. I was irritated for about 30 seconds until I remembered where I am. I took a deep breath and inserted myself. I continued with culturally appropriate aggression through the next few cues I found myself navigating.
2. I like space in my toilet stall. I also like AC there. I like AC in a lot of unnecessary places, like airport waiting areas. How many layers can one remove before causing an international incident? (From what I’ve seen, more than I’d consider.)
I’m off to find an ATM and buy some water. I hope I get to cue up. I need the practice.