People always seem to find something to complain about.
About themselves. Their neighbors. Politics. Summer heat. Winter cold. Their paycheck. Their family. Their kids. The cat. Traffic. Vacation plans. Dinner. Customer service. Parking. Public services. Holidays.
And even when almost everything is going well, they somehow manage to find the one thing that isn’t—and chew on it endlessly, like an old cassette tape caught in the player.
We were coming home from vacation.
Not from a funeral. Not from a war zone. From vacation.
Two women were sitting nearby, deeply tanned after spending time at the same resort we had just left. Within minutes, without even trying, I learned an impressive amount about everything that had apparently been wrong with paradise.
“The beach was tiny.”
“The sun was way too intense.”
“There was too much white in the hotel rooms.”
“The breakfast definitely wasn’t four-star quality.”
“They only served fresh figs every other day.”
“The excursions were exhausting.”
I …More