The Flight I Almost Ruined

His head was bald, except for some, what looked like 5 o'clock shadow beard stubble, on one part of his head. Like if you were to look at someone's head from above and divide it into four quadrants, that beard stubble would be covering one of those quadrants. The stubble looked like the rough side of Velcro. And then he had toilet paper wrapped around his head where a headband would normally sit. There was no blood or anything, so I wasn't sure if this was a fashion or religious choice. Like maybe his religion demanded some headwear, but he'd forgotten to put on his religious headwear that morning; and this was his only way of meeting that obligation. 

None of that matters to this story. I'm not even sure if this is a story really. All that to say, this man was talking in broken English to a lady across from him. She was mostly dressed normally, all in black, and her English was equally broken. Well not broken. I think in order to speak in broken English, you would have to master English and THEN break its rules. They spoke English the way it made sense to them and in the ways their unpracticed tongues would allow the sound to come out. Pronouncing "some" exactly as it's spelled, for example (without changing the "o" sound to a "u" sound), is probably just how it goes when English isn't your first language. 

The main issue I had wasn't their looks or their English pronunciation, but that I was trying to sleep on an airplane and they were talking very loudly. I was happy for them. I wanted them to enjoy their ride. But did their needs supersede mine? Who was even the final arbiter in a situation like this? 

"Hey, could y'all keep it down?" would've felt rude. They were enjoying themselves, and I hardly wanted to be seen as the guy keeping them from a good time. 

On the other hand perhaps other people in the surrounding area felt like I did. And perhaps the final arbiter isn't one person, but a group of people having the same opinion. And if the number of people feeling upset exceeds the number of people enjoying themselves at others' expense, perhaps that prior group is the winner. 

Or maybe there was some higher authority written in psychology that doesn't rely on a democratic angle or one person's personal feelings. But psychology would probably just validate both sides of the situation and recommend the two groups, the upset and the fun, talk it out and come to some conclusion. 

I imagined voicing my frustration. And that's when I realized my root fear. They would probably shut up if I intervened. But they would look angry. They would feel like I was their buzzkill. That I had overstepped and ruined their fun and their flight. And that scared me. What if they developed a bad opinion of me?

I couldn't have that. So I put my head back against the window of the plane and shut my eyes. Unable to sleep.