Karma Is A B*tch
Horse people are friendly, out-going, and love to talk. Most of the time.
Back in 1998, I attended and fence-judged at the World Equestrian Games (WEG) in Rome. (Yes, it was awesome.) A few days before, I was up in Florence having dinner on the patio of a small restaurant. The tables were packed closely enough that I could overhear the party at the next table. They were in Italy for WEG.
I invited myself into their conversation. ‘Really, you are here for WEG? I’m here for WEG. Small world!’ I sat, wagging my tail, waiting for them to be equally thrilled. Not so much. They had a distant family member competing. This made them Terribly Important People. They had no use for a mere spectator/volunteer. Abashed, I returned to my meal.
Several days later, I approached Will Call outside the arena in Rome. Unsure if my pass from the cross-country venue would work here, I’d had an Italian friend arranged a ticket for me. The Terribly Important folks from Florence were at the next window. Their tickets were not waiting for them. Didn’t the ticket window operator understand how Terribly Important they were? Yet another connection of theirs was due to ride any minute. It was Terribly Important that they get into the arena immediately.
sucker soft touch. I had two possible forms of admission. If they had been nice to me – or even polite – I probably would have given one of them my ticket and set about looking for a replacement, or seeing if I could talk my way in. As was, I picked up my ticket and walked by without comment or eye-contact. I tried not to be smug that my people were more capable than their people.
Be kind. If only out of self-interest.