And on those aforementioned BAD days, sometimes some people forget to use their turn signal, K? Hang with me, I know this sounds ugly even though it’s posted in the ‘Dwell in Positivity’ category . . .
So, Mister Silver Beamer in the parking lot of Union Station in Champaign Illinois tonight who gave me MAJOR attitude for not using my blinker, I’ve had a bad fucking day. I woke up this morning on a couch in a nursing home, smelling cranky old ladies’ feet and worried sick about my granny who will be 90 tomorrow. I was awake all night long last night listening to her choke and cough and gag on the half-clotting blood from her endlessly bleeding nose.
The reason, Mr.-Heartland-Do-Right-Perfection-of-Driving-Beamer-Man, that I could not use my fucking turn signal is because I had clasped in a death-grip in my non-driving hand my Granny’s spare oxygen tank. I’d just dropped her off at the on ramp of the nursing home located across the street and had offered to carry her spare tank up to her room for her. In case you don’t know, apparently oxygen tanks cannot tip over, or something really bad happens, at least that’s what Granny’s lecture to me implied. (Or whether something bad truly happens or not, my granny seems to think it to be so and therefore completely freaks out about it, and that just makes me not want to know what happens, quite frankly.)
I turned the corner to go into the parking lot and this asshole who could not have turned anyway (because I was driving on the road perpendicular to him) totally gave me an incredulous WTF shrug instead of the less eloquent middle finger. And you know what? I probably would have responded better to an obscene hand gesture instead of a patronizing shrug and the wifey’s smug looks.
I kind of lost it. I stopped right then and there as I pulled up right next to his BMW and I took the time to hand crank the window of my rental car down . . . (yah, I didn’t spring for the luxury rental car with the power package) . . . and I lifted the oxygen tank up into the air. I think Mr. Aged Fuckwad and his family thought I was about to pull a gun or something.
“Hey,” he said as though he were lecturing a teenager, “All I ask is that you use a blinker and tell me what you’re doing.”
I shot fire from my eyes and said, “Look. I’ve had a bad day, OK? I hope,” I paused, “that you have a good night.” The wife made some kind of righteous comment that I did not hear, but her tone reeked of mockery.
And I rolled on. And I really meant it in that moment. And still do. I truly hope they have a better night than the day I had. And of course, this event was just the proverbial last straw . . . there was much more that contributed to a collectively difficult day.
(Deep Breath.) All I am attempting to illustrate is that sometimes you just never know what others have been dealing with during a typical day. Remember that the next time you feel the need to be a dick and I will try to do the same and maybe all of us on this rock can get along a little better. Compassion. Try it.