A Bad Day

The other day I was leaving Mable Rush Elementary School and came to the four-way stop a block from the school. It was my turn to go and as I pulled out, a car on my left ran the stop sign and came skidding to a stop about five feet from my front bumper. As I looked into the car that had a handicap parking sign hanging from the rearview vision mirror, the driver had a look of shocked relief on her face. But there was also (and of course this is my interpretation) a weary look of "What next?," on her face. The first thought that entered my mind, literally, was, "This lady is having a bad day," and a feeling of mercy followed.

I'm not trying to pat myself on the back here, because of how I reacted. I'm just saying that the look on this person's face touched something in me, and it wasn't hard to not resist getting angry. Anyway, I usually get angry when I'm scared, and when you're in a big bus that you don't own, what's to be scared of.

I'm sure I'll get to report a time when I get angry in traffic.

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