Here in central Alabama, we'll butt into anyone's business without the bat of an eye. Not too long ago, my husband dropped me off in front of the grocery store and sat in the parking lot while I ran in to "pick up a few things." Forty-five minutes later, I opened the back of the van to unload my bags, and all I got was "Where the heck have you BEEN?"
"I stood in line behind a woman who was on her way to Augusta, Ga., with her 19-year-old daughter who had suffered a stroke some time ago. Oh, and the daughter also had a tiny baby. And the drive to Augusta would take a LONG time, so the daughter would have to use a travel potty because the only way they could fit the wheelchair into the Toyota Tercel was to load it FIRST, under all the suitcases and the baby's stroller. And without easy access to the wheelchair, navigating a rest stop would be impossible. Same for restaurants. That explained the plastic knives and forks, jar of mayonnaise and sandwich stuff, all of which was lined up next to the toilet paper."
I won't go into the comparisons between central Alabama and Bhutan because I can't find Bhutan on a map.