Monday, March 19, 2012

Displaced Anger

     As a preface of spring, today my post will be a little bit different.

     It was a beautiful Sunday and we had incredible weather for March; warm, sunny, with the promise of spring is the gentle breeze.  It was the type of day that you cannot help but feel happy.  I was doing errands with my daughter in preparation for her trip to Israel and we popped into CVS for some travel toiletries.  On the way out, I crossed the small parking lot to my car.  To preface this, my car was parked front end in, against a small curb on the side of a grassy area that ran parallel to a secondary road, albeit labeled Route 135W. 
     As I backed out, I heard this horrific honking.  I looked around…no one was behind me.  I wasn’t blocking anyone.  I was pulling into the correct traffic placement for this small lot, on the right hand side, preparing to drive to the exit.  In front of me was a car, in my lane, however it was facing me.  Traveling in that direction, that car rightfully should have been parallel to me in the lane to my left.  Behind the wheel was a fairly young looking man – perhaps about 30.  Leaning on his horn, he grabbed the handicapped sign that hung to his window and began shaking it.  OK – he was handicapped.  But as far as I knew, a handicapped sign gives you permission to park in the handicapped spaces.  It doesn’t give you permission to have fantasies of driving on the opposite side of the road, pretending you are in London.  Nor does it give you permission for unnecessary rudeness.  And he’s honking his horn and shaking this sign and yelling.  Hmmm…WTF???   
     Still, I couldn’t be mean to this poor delusional man, confused as to the meaning of his handicapped sign.  So, I “illegally” pulled to the left lane and blew him a kiss before driving off.  OK – perhaps it was a little antagonistic, seeing the unexplained rage he was putting out…but it defused any anger he may have provoked with his unreasonable display of temper.  And maybe he would contemplate it later and be grateful that someone blew him kisses instead of blowing him off with a well displayed finger.  

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