I’m in Antwerp, Belgium to attend CyberNova. European travel is nice. As my friend Erich says, “you fall over in Europe and land in another country” which isn’t wrong. It takes me longer to get to the airport than the flight over to Brussels.
Although, ever since Brexit, it pains me every time we can’t use the EU immigration line, and have to queue up in the inevitably slower, “all other passports” line.
When coming in there were separate lines and airport staff were asking which passports people had to make sure they were in the right line. A man in front of me said he had a British passport so was asked to continue. I was way cooler and just flashed my passport in the same way Don Johnson used to flash his badge in Miami Vice. There was a lady behind me who said she had an Irish passport, so the man in immigration pointed her to the other line while condescendingly saying, “You go over there, this line here is for the British.” I could hear the disdain in his voice as if he resisted the urge to spit.
Of course, I couldn’t let this insult stand, so I did what every Brit does when faced in such a situation… I tutted. It wasn’t just a quiet tut either. It was accompanied by the deep exhalation and eye roll. That’s right… Brussels airport got the full trifecta.
Immigration didn’t take that long and the train terminal is in the aiport where I could get my train to Antwerp. After getting on the train at the airport, we chugged along and got to the next station where a young woman who had been commuting with headphones in, completely absorbed in her phone, did that thing where she pulled out one earphone and asked the person closest to her when they would be reaching the airport.
A man standing nearby explained how she’s missed the stop and we all watched the colour drain from her face as it went through a spectrum of emotions.
I felt sorry for her, wondering if she had time to make her flight. Assuming she was going to catch a flight, but another guy tutted as if he’d never been distracted in his entire life. As if he emerges from bed each morning with perfect situational awareness and has never once walked into a room and completely forgotten why he went there.
Another group of ladies made comments amongst themselves about how kids these days are always distracted by their phones.
She’ll survive. Probably catch the next train back. Maybe she’ll have a funny story about that time she nearly missed her flight because she was watching cat videos or reading about whether penguins have knees.
But the bloke who tutted? The group of judgemental ladies… they’re moving onto their next victims. A bit like me having a mini tantrum because I can’t join the EU line in the airport anymore.
If things don’t go your way, or if someone messes up. Are you helping or just tutting? Because I don’t think tutting has ever solved a single problem in history.
It just makes you feel superior while the train keeps moving.
Javvad Malik 