Trram drama

The woman, somewhere in her thirties and rather stylishly dressed, got on the No. 10 tram. 

I was on the way to my airport to see my daughter off to Boston. With her many suitcases there was no room in the car and Llara, my housemate and I were going to treat ourselves to a nice beginning lunch. We use the word beginning rather than ending or farewell--for Llara is off on the next stage in her life. 

The woman's hair was well cut. She carried a Vögel shopping bag and I guessed there was at least one pair of new shoes in it. 

Suddenly she started an anti-mobile phone rant, her voice carrying through out the car. 

Granted, I agreed with much she was saying, but she looked much too much together to have been an unstable person off her meds.

A young man asked, maybe her age, maybe slightly younger asked, "Why are you doing this?"

"I need to get the message out, Jeune Homme."

The debate was launched and lasted through the next several stops as the young man tried to persuade the woman that the use of mobile phones should be a matter of personal liberty, an argument she didn't buy. At no point did she become more agitated although she did ignore him for a few minutes, before he prompted another response from her.

The other passengers exchanged glances. "A piece of theatre," one said.

"Not normal," said another.

When the tram arrived at his stop, he wished her well. She wished him well and continued talking against mobile phones until her stop.

It was a piece of theatre.