A Dangerous World

A few days ago, I was sitting outdoors at a well-known, ubiquitous coffee shop, enjoying a morning cup on a bright, cloudless day, while awaiting an appointment. Other than the terrible news surrounding the brutal shooting of a man armed only with his wits and a boldness to engage in free discours among a public that presumably no longer favors it, there was nothing especially notable about the day. 

Behind me, as I sipped my coffee and scrolled through my phone, thinking about the horrible events of the previous day, I heard the whispered voices of two young ladies, as they might have been described in the vernacular of an easier, shall we say, less impolite time. They were seated at the table adjacent to mine. Though I could not hear their entire conversation, it apparently involved a rather ugly bug that had landed unnoticed on my shoulder. They expressed concern, though not to me, that it might be one of those “kissing bugs” that have been reported as spreading Chagas disease, a rather unpleasant illness that can lead to serious and lifelong health issues, particularly with the heart and digestive system. In worst cases, if left untreated, it could even lead to heart failure and death.

The two promptly got up and left, without saying another word. As they did, the bug took flight from my shoulder and flew noisily away, eliciting unharmonious screams from both women. The uncomely bug landed on the sidewalk a few yards away, where I spotted it, suddenly realizing what they had been talking about. I recognized the insect as being like many that I’d seen recently in my own yard at home, those pesky invaders from China, known as the spotted lanternfly.

It was an easy mistake to misidentify the thing. After all, the two bugs are similar in size and somewhat alike in coloring. And they are both indeed quite unpretty. But they are very different in shape. And although the lanternfly is an unwanted pest, it is relatively harmless, other than to my wife’s prized rosebushes.

The two women hurried away without looking back or uttering another word. They left behind only my musings about why in this brave new world they had said nothing to me by way of warning, or just a polite, “Hey, mister. You have a bug on your shoulder.” Rather, they were content to leave behind what they surmised was a potentially deadly pest sitting on the shoulder of someone they didn’t know or care to.

Of course, I was relieved to know that I wasn’t in any danger. At least, not from the bug. But I do wonder about a world in which the impulse does not occur to warn a fellow human being of the prospect of impending danger, even if that person is a complete stranger. To simply get up and walk away, without saying a word. 

It has become a very dangerous world, indeed, hasn’t it?