Friday, April 29, 2011

Unexpected questions...Oh..How I hate them!


I must really have a fever for blogging today, seeing as I have already posted three posts. I guess this will be my last one for today, unless I figure I wasn't really done and decide to write more.

One thing which makes me feel more uncomfortable than anything else is an unexpected question. It's like they were made just to catch a person off guard. Like a flying slap from nowhere that just suddenly hits you in the face right when you're about to make a turn.

I got one of those unexpected questions at the airport the other day. I had been a mute on the air plane with barely any space for my long legs, I was fatigued and only wished to get home as soon as possible. I didn't care much about my surroundings and mostly hate it being in a crowded area full of people I don't know.

Coming out into the passport check-out hall there was a large queue moving too fast for my liking, causing me to get nervous and confused, but as it was my turn to have my passport checked I had not expected the man would make conversation with me, so I was busy gazing off into the distance.
"Ah... You just came from Norway, right?" He asked looking at my passport.
"Yes," I replied politely, waiting impatiently for him to hand me back my passport, but no, the man wanted to carry on talking. It had surprised me a little seeing as there were people behind me and that I wasn't expecting it at all.
"How do you say Good morning in Norwegian?"
Are you serious? I thought, but replied "God morgen".
"I see, and Thank you is Tack right?"
"Takk," I smiled, getting more nervous than impatient, wondering whether he was keeping me there for security guards to come and get me because he had felt there was something suspicious about me.
"So...", he carried on. My hands dropped nervously to my sides, wishing he would just hand me back my passport already "...How do you say Good morning again?"
"Takk," I said hesitantly, making a weird hand gesture as if I were welcoming him to a home, before I realized his question. "Oh," I said stupidly "that's God morgen". (I'm sure he must had thought I was completely odd, seeing as I was so spaced out)

He smiled and gave me back my passport, wishing me a pleasant stay to which I wish I could just die on the spot....So embarrassing and completely reminded me of the time I was in primary school and a maths question (of all questions to ask  me in  the world) had slapped me in the face. I had not expected it at all and didn't even know the answer. I can still see my teacher's disappointed expression whenever I close my eyes...*yikes*.

Unexpected questions are the most uncomfortable questions one could ever get. A child asking you where they come from, someone asking you a question you previously lied about to get yourself out of a sticky situation, only to discover that someone else had made you get caught.  There are numerous of them in existence....

 

When I'm in a room studying all by myself there is no telling what else will pop into my head that I must absolutely write about, but it's nice to have a whole archive full of things I have written, knowing I can one day look back at them and humour myself with all the silly things I once wrote.