Jackie Danicki

I knew I was going to have one of these soon, but I didn’t think it would be in Rome.

Last Monday, Antoine and I had just sat down at an ideal table at one of Insalata Ricca’s restaurants when a woman speaking both fluent English and fluent Italian sat down, with a friend, at the table behind me. I was torn between staying put and moving tables, as the woman was speaking in a ridiculously loud voice. “Let’s move,” I said to Antoine. We’d only just ordered our starters, so we could go to another table without too much fuss. Antoine pointed out that we had the best table in the house. I agreed that the location was great, but the surrounding noise pollution was not. Eager not to try his patience, I stayed where I was.

As we ate our starters, the woman’s talk got increasingly personal. She bellowed about how she “[doesn’t] do the family thing, but would love to have a kid,” and would probably just get pregnant and raise her child alone. That was followed by a laundry list of moans about her ex. I wasn’t sure if she realised that we could understand every excruciatingly personal thing she was saying, as she may have assumed that we didn’t speak English. But then I remembered that she had heard us speaking to the waiter in English. (And anyway, she’d have to be pretty dumb to assume that no one in a restaurant in Rome - and one near the Circus Maximus and Forum, two huge tourist attractions - would speak English.)

“I’m going to say something,” I said to Antoine after she started talking about sex games and why she needs them. “This is really ridiculous. We can’t even have a conversation, she’s talking that loudly. She’s ruining our meal.” In general, I’m very pleased that Antoine is so much more calm than I am in almost every situation, and this was no exception. Again, I didn’t want to wear out his patience or embarrass him, so I didn’t say anything.

Of course, all my good intentions flew out the window when she started talking about her ex’s genitals and what she liked to do with them.

I whipped round in my seat. “Excuse me,” I said. “We’re just trying to eat our meal, and all we can hear is you talking about that. We’re really not interested, and it’s totally off-putting. It’s just not very polite. Can you please just keep it down?”

If I’d been scripting that, I would have said something much more powerful, cutting, and perfect. Alas, alas.

The woman just looked at me, almost as if she might smile. She did not apologise for being so rude. I turned back around to Antoine, who smiled at me, and the woman and her friend did indeed quiet down. (She did, though, take a cell phone call later in the meal, showing zero manners to other diners or her friend, who got ignored for several minutes while Loudy McMannersfree chatted away.)

Nearly a week later, I am so glad I said something to that woman. I would have regretted it so much if I hadn’t. People like her - people who go around behaving as if they are in the privacy of their own bedrooms, as if their wants and needs are the only ones that exist, and as if they cannot imagine the impact of their behaviour on others - only keep doing it because they get away with it. Every day. Several times a day.

My friend Amy Alkon doesn’t put up with any of that nonsense from people. We have talked a lot about this kind of behaviour lately, and she truly is my inspiration when I need to overcome my desire to make nice with everyone and say what needs to be said. (Amy does have a deal with her boyfriend, Gregg Sutter, that she won’t get into any verbal exchanges with rude people when she’s sitting or standing right next to him. She finds her way around that one, though!)

One of my resolutions for 2006 (as of, oh, right now) is that I will calmly and politely - with a smile, if I can remember - endeavour not to let such behaviour pass without comment when it is having a remarkably negative impact on me or someone who cannot speak for themselves. Antoine was not upset that I said something to the woman in Rome (indeed, he was glad that I did and that it made me feel I’d addressed the problem instead of ignoring it), but I know it won’t be a big treat for him to have to stand there when I open my mouth to have a go at someone. That said, if Gregg can cope, so can he.

Filed under: Communication, Friends, Life, Manners, Survival