citizen duty
Two days ago was a bad day to be a citizen of this place. I mean, in a way, I felt pretty good about policing fellow humans, but in a bad way, it pointed out the way, in a way, I am equally as “bad.”
Morning – late for work and frustrated in so many other ways I shouldn’t be, and a car stops ahead of me at the red light on Hampton & Fyler. She rolls her old toyotasomethingerother-from-early-last-decade’s window down. The staggered window only opens long enough to expel a large-size Taco Bell® plastic bag full of trash.
Watching this, short-fused-appalled, I pulled the barking break on my 4runner, opened the door and slipped off the seatbelt in one motion, walked up past left-turn-lane-cars, picked up the bag, walked to her window, knocked sternly. Got a weary, timid look.
“You dropped this!” I demanded. You dropped this. Quick to anger, she frowned—her tired-of-working-too-many-hours eyes steamed at me. She wasn’t taking the bait rolling the window back down like other people have before…. They’ve said “Oh, I guess I dropped that,” innocently enough to sound convincing though their eyes they are embarrassed and growingly enraged that I am calling them out. I’ve had girls call me “peace hippy” and “fucking asshole” in the same breath; I’ve had guys threaten to pummel my face, and you can't forget the standard middle finger, here and there.
She just stared up at me, asking why but raging.
I placed the bag on her windshield and walked back to my car. I hear her yell at me-- I turned around to her, a car and a half-length away. “You don’t know me. You don’t know me! and someothermeanstuff.”
The first part was all that I heard.
I wanted to say, “I know you’re a fucking litterer,” but I stood there in the street, people around me gazing at the situation; an SUV window rolls down half way, near intervention. That was one step away from “I’m Woodsy the Owl and Give a hoot, don’t polute.” Yes, cliché might not have sold my efforts, but I just got in my car.
I didn’t know her. And out of all the hard knocks she’s living with in life, in her rusty mazdasomethingerother from sevensomething years ago, I just made it worse for her already shitty-ass day. She drove at the green light with everything the car had, exhaust billowing…but the plastic bag of taco bell trash slid gently off her windshield, floating lightly square onto Hampton like a bad American Beauty rip-off scene, where tens of morning commuters were waiting at their red, dully watching.
I could have stopped, but I would have blocked more traffic. But I should have picked it up out of the road. Not only would it have made me feel better overall, I might have justified the incident to the onlookers. Instead, the thoughts of others in secular traffic made me think I should move on and get out of the way—I caused enough hardship for some people, waiting ten seconds longer than they should have at the intersection….
I’m a jerk because it some respects, I litter in my own way on this planet. My car gets low gas mileage, I don’t recycle card board anymore because my recycling service doesn’t take it anymore. I could drive it up three blocks, but the gas expended in my 4Runner makes it hardly worth it. So she could have yelled at me in the same fashion-- knocked on my window, said “you drive that gas-guzzling suv, work for profit, and eat more than one person on this blue earth deserves! How dare you!”
I mean, yeah, even though I knew that I deserved it myself, I made a stand. Even though I would have been embarrassed because someone called me out on my human failings, I would have rolled down my window when she walked away and screamed, “You don’t know me! You don’t know me and something elseorother!”
Morning – late for work and frustrated in so many other ways I shouldn’t be, and a car stops ahead of me at the red light on Hampton & Fyler. She rolls her old toyotasomethingerother-from-early-last-decade’s window down. The staggered window only opens long enough to expel a large-size Taco Bell® plastic bag full of trash.
Watching this, short-fused-appalled, I pulled the barking break on my 4runner, opened the door and slipped off the seatbelt in one motion, walked up past left-turn-lane-cars, picked up the bag, walked to her window, knocked sternly. Got a weary, timid look.
“You dropped this!” I demanded. You dropped this. Quick to anger, she frowned—her tired-of-working-too-many-hours eyes steamed at me. She wasn’t taking the bait rolling the window back down like other people have before…. They’ve said “Oh, I guess I dropped that,” innocently enough to sound convincing though their eyes they are embarrassed and growingly enraged that I am calling them out. I’ve had girls call me “peace hippy” and “fucking asshole” in the same breath; I’ve had guys threaten to pummel my face, and you can't forget the standard middle finger, here and there.
She just stared up at me, asking why but raging.
I placed the bag on her windshield and walked back to my car. I hear her yell at me-- I turned around to her, a car and a half-length away. “You don’t know me. You don’t know me! and someothermeanstuff.”
The first part was all that I heard.
I wanted to say, “I know you’re a fucking litterer,” but I stood there in the street, people around me gazing at the situation; an SUV window rolls down half way, near intervention. That was one step away from “I’m Woodsy the Owl and Give a hoot, don’t polute.” Yes, cliché might not have sold my efforts, but I just got in my car.
I didn’t know her. And out of all the hard knocks she’s living with in life, in her rusty mazdasomethingerother from sevensomething years ago, I just made it worse for her already shitty-ass day. She drove at the green light with everything the car had, exhaust billowing…but the plastic bag of taco bell trash slid gently off her windshield, floating lightly square onto Hampton like a bad American Beauty rip-off scene, where tens of morning commuters were waiting at their red, dully watching.
I could have stopped, but I would have blocked more traffic. But I should have picked it up out of the road. Not only would it have made me feel better overall, I might have justified the incident to the onlookers. Instead, the thoughts of others in secular traffic made me think I should move on and get out of the way—I caused enough hardship for some people, waiting ten seconds longer than they should have at the intersection….
I’m a jerk because it some respects, I litter in my own way on this planet. My car gets low gas mileage, I don’t recycle card board anymore because my recycling service doesn’t take it anymore. I could drive it up three blocks, but the gas expended in my 4Runner makes it hardly worth it. So she could have yelled at me in the same fashion-- knocked on my window, said “you drive that gas-guzzling suv, work for profit, and eat more than one person on this blue earth deserves! How dare you!”
I mean, yeah, even though I knew that I deserved it myself, I made a stand. Even though I would have been embarrassed because someone called me out on my human failings, I would have rolled down my window when she walked away and screamed, “You don’t know me! You don’t know me and something elseorother!”
<< Home