There is a memorable if somewhat puzzling verse in the Gospels where Jesus Christ affirms that someone who gives someone a cup of cold water will by no means lose their salvation. I am not sure what everyone’s tastes are with regards to water, but when it comes to drinking I love ice cold water (this seems to be a particularly American quality from what I have been told), I find cool water acceptable, and anything lukewarm or hotter is disgusting for me to drink except in limited cases as broth for soup, in hot tea with plenty of sugar, or in drinks like hot chocolate and apple cider. I am not sure to what extent these tastes are common or universal, but they have been remarkably consistent throughout my life and when I go to a restaurant I am generally pleased that the general habit of waitresses is to keep my glass well stocked with ice water, often leaving me with a pitcher because they are aware of the extent of my thirst, which I consider to be wise policy on their part.

With this context, then, I find it puzzling that when I was flying last night (as I write this) from Houston to Tampa on the tail end of a long and tiring journey that when I asked for water, the Mensa candidate stewardess (who had previously been labeled as part of the best and brightest United Airlines crew by the flight staff) gave me a cup of nearly boiling hot water in a paper cup inside of a plastic cup. I was particularly irate upon receiving this singularly unhelpful and detestable drink. It would have been perfectly fine had it come with a teabag and plenty of sugar, or if it was to be used to heat up a cup of ramen noodles. It was for drinking, though, and for the life of me I could not figure out why someone would assume that someone would want to drink hot water without anything else in it to make it palatable. It took me some minutes to think of things I could say to the ignoramus who gave it to me that did not include swear words, and in that time the moment was lost to get an acceptable drink before it was time to dispose of waste on the flight before it descended into Tampa.

What is it that made the stewardess such an imbecile? It would be one thing–and an acceptable thing–to think of a request for water as an ambiguous request that needs more information. Acceptable questions to follow up on would have included how hot or cold one wanted one’s water, or whether one wanted ice in it (the answer would have been yes, obviously). It would not have been foolish at all, in the face of ambiguity, to desire clarity so as to please the recipient of the water, and to better determine how they wanted the water. What made the behavior of the stewardess so idiotic was to assume that a tired passenger flying from Texas to Florida wanted to drink hot water without specifying this and making it clear. It was assuming a potentially ambiguous question was meant in a way entirely contrary to its intention, in a way that would not have been difficult to understand or clarify, that made the behavior of the stewardess so inappropriate, especially since a person who is in the regular habit of serving customers drinks would indicate the general American preference for cold drinks, one which I share in wholeheartedly.

How should one deal with idiots, though? There is a wide difference between feeling charitable feelings towards those who do stupid things and those whose inability to communicate with us and properly discern our wishes and preferences causes irritation and frustration and being coldly polite about it. Perhaps had I been less tired in the situation I would have been less irritable about it; certainly being hungry and exhausted does not improve my mood, even if I am usually able to control the worst responses. The central problem in dealing with idiocy, though, is that we have very little if any ability to deal with the stupidity of others, especially where communication is difficult. All we can do, most of the time, is to address our own. That is usually enough to keep us busy, if we choose to wrestle with it.