Time to panic
People We Meet on Vacation“Time to panic” is a playful expression of reassurance shared by Poppy Wright and Alex Nilsen. Across two unsettling moments on their Vancouver Island trip, the question lets them acknowledge fear without letting it dominate: first, Alex asks it during turbulence; later, he uses it again when a boat ride seems alarming, only to declare that the real cause for alarm is how adorable the otters are.
The Question in the Air
The first exchange comes as the plane judders through turbulence and Alex tightens his grip on Poppy’s hand. His question, “Time to panic?”, receives a calm answer: “Not yet,” followed by Poppy’s suggestion that he try to sleep. The joke does not deny the turbulence or Alex’s apprehension; it makes room for both while shifting their attention toward the ordinary business of getting through the flight together.
The exchange keeps its lightness through the imagined consequences of sleeping. Alex says he needs to be well rested when he meets Death; Poppy counters that he will need his energy when she gets tired at Butchart Gardens and makes him carry her. The competing exaggerations turn danger into a shared comic scenario, one grounded in their plans for the days ahead rather than in any actual threat.
When Alex squeezes her hand and says, “I guess I’d better sleep, then,” Poppy squeezes back. He asks, “Wake me up when it’s time to panic,” and she answers, “Always.” The compact call-and-response gives the phrase a second meaning: beyond asking whether fear is warranted, it becomes a promise that Poppy will remain attentive to him. Alex rests his head on her shoulder and pretends to sleep. The narration acknowledges the eventual kink in his neck and ache in her shoulder, but sets those discomforts against her anticipation of five days traveling with her best friend and her conviction that nothing can really go wrong.
A Reprise on the Water
The phrase returns during a water-taxi ride that is more frightening to Alex and Poppy than flying. As the engine is cut, their voices rise over the sound: Poppy begins, “THIS IS WORSE THAN—”, and Alex finishes the thought in a whisper against her ear: “Worse than flying.” Poppy asks, “Is he stopping to kill us?” Alex answers with another version of the expression, asking whether the driver had said it was time to panic. The repeated question links the boat’s apparent peril to their earlier exchange on the plane.
Their apprehension briefly shapes how they interpret the driver’s gesture. When he turns in his chair and points ahead, Alex wonders whether the place he is indicating is where he intends to kill them. Poppy turns her laugh into a cough. The driver’s crooked grin and explanation—“Family of otters.”—reveal that the anticipated threat is instead a sighting of animals floating together over the waves, their paws folded together.
From Alarm to Delight
Poppy squeals and leans forward to see the otters. Alex stands behind her, resting his hands lightly on her arms as he leans over to look too. He then recasts the phrase: “Okay,” he says. “Time to panic. That’s fucking adorable.” The joke’s meaning turns on the reveal. On the plane, panic is a possibility to postpone; on the water, Alex applies the same language to delight at something harmless.
Poppy asks whether they can take one home, adding, “They speak to me!” The ride stays vivid in the account even after the hike through lush ferns and the hot, earthy waters of a spring: those experiences are amazing, but cannot quite compare with the spine-compressing water-taxi journey. The phrase therefore belongs not only to the couple’s banter about fear, but to the trip’s pattern of transforming a moment of alarm into a shared memory.
A Shared Call-and-Response
The expression’s force comes from its recurrence with a changed emotional charge. Alex first asks it when turbulence prompts him to tighten his grip; later, he invokes it amid the boat’s jolts, then turns it into an exclamation of affection for the otters. Poppy answers the first question with reassurance and answers the second scene through laughter and wonder. Between the two moments, the phrase becomes a small ritual of mutual attention: fear can be named, teased, and even overtaken by delight.
