Sooooo, yeah...that happened. While it wasn't a direct puke--it ricocheted off the wall and splashed on my foot--it was still gross. My friend C.G. Powell got it a wee bit worse. :-(
I am in New Orleans, so I understand some party mishaps are bound to happen. The weird thing? It was 4 pm on a Tuesday. Who is out puking on Bourbon Street at 4 pm? Drug addicts? Alcoholics? College students? Over zealous tourists? I can understand it happening at 4 am. Hell, I expect it, but during tea time? Really?
But, what do I know? This is New Orleans. Never been here before. Maybe I shouldn't have been on Bourbon Street on a Tuesday afternoon? And it dawned on me how often I must do things in new cities and places and spaces and am totally oblivious to the local expectations.
And then it hit me: it's not only like that with locals, it's like that with people, period. Some people have different expectations about behavior and conversation. Sooooo, how many times have I judged someone for not meeting my expectations?
That's kind of scary because I like to think I'm open-minded. Huh. Maybe I need to pay more attention to this and work on acknowledging we are all different, with different upbringings and habits and ways of being in this world.
And maybe I should pay more attention to what people are doing when I'm walking down the street. If I want to avoid getting puked on, that is.
And maybe I should give people the space and compassion to be who they are consciously. If I don't want to be unconsciously judgmental, that is.
Food for thought.