The Tooter Behind me~

I went to visit my friend today.  You know the friend I wrote about a while back? The one with the escalator?  Mmm Hmmm…… I went to Target today.  The Target by my house is a Double Decker (I feel the need to point that out because only in an exclusive neighborhood do they have such things.  Well, that is, if you can call living on the outskirts of “the hood” exclusive)

My friend has a parking garage attached.  So, I zipped up the entrance ramp in my red race car.  (I don’t actually have a race car, but my car is red.  A former student coined it the “red race car” and it just sort of stuck.  Little did he know that it is a Volkswagen and Volkswagen just doesn’t make race cars.  Though, I have managed to break speed guidelines posted in the city on a number of occasions, I still wouldn’t call it a race car.)

As I neared the top of the ramp I was reminded of the need to be a safe driver as a mob of people exited the front door of Target in what looks to be the likes of a clown car letting out. (It was a true mob.)  I wondered if the place had just gone up in smoke or there had been a bomb threat or Anthrax scare.  No way to know for sure from my vantage point…….  They just kept coming.  I saw a parking space just across the aisle from me, but couldn’t maneuver the race car into it without taking out a few of the pedestrians.  So, I waited.  The line of cars behind me grew at a rather alarming rate.  About 45 seconds into the clown car-like episode I hear a blaring horn coming from the teenage gal behind me.  Now, this is a big “no-no” in the driving world.  Just because you want to go, doesn’t mean you get to go, especially when there is a mob in front of you.  Then it hits me, how do I let this woman know that I am aware of her desire to go but I can’t honor it because of the 40+ people streaming across the road in front of me.  I ponder giving a hands up in the air gesture but wonder how will I communicate the situation using my hands?  I ponder stomping back there to tell her about the situation.  (I should have said that the angle of the ramp prohibits the car behind me to see what is happening in front of me because the incline is so great.  So, for all this woman knows I have fallen asleep and am holding up her quest to get to the handbag counter.)

While I am pondering the “stomping back to tell her” I hear the horn blow a second time.  I look back and take note of the car she is driving; it is a late 80’s Oldsmobile.  Clearly the red race car is no match for that tank.  With one fell swoop her right front bumper could take me out.  So, I immediately decide I will do some sort of hand gesture in the rear-view mirror.  Well, as luck would have it my sign language for “crowd of people walking in front of me” must have looked like something else because the next thing I know I am on the receiving end of a rather unfriendly gesture that drivers sometimes make using only their middle finger……  Oh, you know that one too?  Mmm Hmmm..  I didn’t much care for it. 

FINALLY, the clown car crew clears out of my way and I zoom around the parking garage to try and get away from the non-friendly finger lady.  Then I stop and wonder why?  Why am I, a nearly 40 year old man, afraid of this what appeared to be 18 year old female who was in an all-fire hurry?  I had no explanation except “fear”?........  And there is was……. the real reason.  Fear seems to be the most unfriendly of friends who pops up when you least expect it to.  What exactly was I afraid she would do?  Smash into me?  Yell at me? Tell all the other people in the parking garage that I was a terrible driver?  What could an 18ish year old say or do that would make me so afraid of her? None of it seemed plausable.  Further, even if any of those things did happen, who'd care? After some mental gymnastics I reminded myself that just because someone else doesn’t understand your situation it does not necessarily mean that you need to explain it to them. 

Though this example is crude, the notion that you don’t have to explain yourself to those who don’t “get” or understand you or a situation you are living has application in many other areas of my life.  - Now, the tricky part is remembering that when this urge to explain yourself pops up again.

PS- I had no trouble with the escalator today.  I think we are friends again.)