Many years ago, I was on a cruise on a very nice little ship that had a very international passenger list. I was there, of course. And there were a bunch of Brits and Germans and a handful of French and Japanese folks. And among them was this Saudi couple.
It was a small ship, so everyone socialized and interacted to some greater or lesser degree. And the Saudis were pretty sociable (which is pretty interesting, given that this was not that long after 9/11), particularly in the cigar lounge after dinner. I mean, that's where the Saudi gent would go--I have no idea what his wife did.
Anyway, one night we're down in the cigar lounge. It's me, the Saudi fellow, a couple of Brits, and various other people. And the Saudi is kind of gently advocating the Saudi view on international relations, which, as I said, was kind of interesting given that it wasn't that long after 9/11. The Brit is having none of it. I later learned from another British couple that he was a "proper lord." I never figured out what would make one an improper lord. Some of the vagaries of the British social caste system escape me.
In any event, the Saudi is getting more and more frustrated in the discussion, and at some point very loudly expressed his view that Saudi Arabia has one of the highest GDP/capita in the world and merits respect on the world stage. The British "proper lord," in his very smooth and measured Oxbridge accent replies, "you see, my dear boy, nobody is going to respect you because a hundred years ago, you were herding goats in the desert; and a hundred years from now, you'll be herding goats in the desert."
That's when I--more than mildly intoxicated, I must confess--let out a laugh that was louder than was polite for the size of the room.
The Saudi was pissed, stabbed out his cigar, and stormed out.
Happily, he didn't blow up the ship after that.