The four of us were part of a group of 16 in a tour group. Ten of our group were seated at one table. Joan was grumpy, but her husband Bruce took the cake. Everyone avoided him. He had about half his teeth and they were black and very smelly. He loved to talk and was a very one-sided conversationalist. Even his wife would turn down her hearing aid when he started. At dinner on the final night of the cruise Willy, a lovely gentleman, sat between Bruce and me. Bruce was talking about slaughterhouses. Willy made a light comment that it might not be a good topic at dinner. Bruce just ignored him. When Bruce gets talking he doesn't hear anything else. I am not squeamish, but I'd finally had enough because he was loud enough to be heard at the next table. I got up, leaned down and put my hand on his shoulder, and said, "I don't think slaughtering animals is appropriate dinner conversation." Bruce's comment was, "I didn't even mention slaughtering." My response was, "You used the word 'slaughterhouse' more than once." He shut up after that. When I took my seat again Willy leaned over and told me he had great respect for me. My sister later said Willy couldn't keep from giggling the whole time I was confronting Bruce.
On the flight back, Joan stopped to chat on the plane, but Bruce averted his eyes from me. At least I didn't have to smell his breath.