Context.

We all get misunderstood sometimes. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's not. But life is a funny world from which we are the main idiots. We are always the ridicule of fun whether we like it or not.

We have to take it on he chin. Get over it. Build a bridge and all that.

What you say might not be what the person you speaks to actually hears. They may hear a version of what you said and decipher it differently. A bit like Chinese whispers that we used to play when we were younger.

I recently asked a lady of American descent coming to Ireland, if she'd like the culinary usual of Chicken or Beef during the meal service.

"Excuse me Madam, would you like Chicken or Beef?"

"Wha??? I can't hear you!!"

"If you could just remove your headphones for just a second and press pause on your TV. Thanks for that - would you like Chicken or Beef?"

"What did you say about my feet???"

That actually happened. That's just a typical example of miscommunication. Wars have started over less.

Or my favourite, which I said to a fellow colleague just recently.

She stepped in between myself and another male steward and said "sorry".

I said in my usual Navan-ish accent "And so you should be!"

This came out like "And so chubby".

I never meant ANY insult toward my fellow colleague, who seemed instantly insulted by the accusation.

After corretcing my colleague who thought I had slighted her, I did apologise - even though I had done feck all wrong.

We really have to watch what we say. But then again, some people don't listen properly.

Or maybe I should get elocution lessons.

Irritation.

I have to apologise to the gentleman who sat in seat 4C yesterday, whose life I made a living hell for the six odd hours it took to fly to Boston. Why I'm apologising, I don't really know - but he had a face on him that said "your very presence in front of me is irritating me."

I served him (as well as a packed cabin) in my ever professional manner. I didn't spill or drop anything on top of him, which is a bit of rarity for me, to be honest. His entertainment worked perfectly and we provided everything that he requested. In other words, he had no need to have a face on him like a smacked bottom.

Why was he irritated so? Was he annoyed because he had someone he didn't know sitting beside him? She wasn't the friendliest either, but she was polite lady. Had he seen all the movies and films we provide on his personal entertainment? Was the food bad? Was the wine corked? But he never complained once - but looked like he was ready to blow a gasket.

There was no tipping point however, and I walked off that flight wondering what had irritated him so. And then in the flash of thunder and lightening this morning, it hit me.

Good manners. He wasn't born with any.

I was brought up well by my parents to respect others. To treat them like you would like to be treated.

I remember few memories of my Dad, as he passed when I was very young.

I do remember some of his guidelines for life though, and simple good manners were at the core of our upbringing. Holding doors open for others, cleaning up after yourself and having due consideration for other humans walking this planet were some of his common good manners.

I honestly hope that I continue to adhere to his teachings. He did set a great example for all of us in the family.

So when I come across an utter gobshite during my days' work, I wonder if my Dad is looking down and laughing at me as I try to contain myself. Trying to restrain myself when I get asked another stupid and inane question (and remaining calm on the exterior) - I know he's giggling but remaining very proud.

Not every day has the same usual eejits though. Some days are more of a strain than others.

But, the good days far outweigh the bad ones, thank the heavens.