These days I drive only in the daytime and only around the neighborhood: the grocery store, the credit union, the library, the post office, plus short errands for my busy daughter. I do not drive during rush hours, at night, nor on the interstate. Recently my latest "clunker" (old, runs, but not worth major repair) automobile finished its last trip.
Until our friend locates another suitable vehicle (he is a "car guy") I am a pedestrian. Walking everywhere takes more time and energy, but isn't as inconvenient as you might think, because we are in-town and the credit union, bank, supermarket, drug store, post office, etc. are within six or seven blocks one-way.
For most errands I must cross two or three busy streets. I am very careful to cross with the lights and to watch for turning vehicles. Also I time my errands so most are done around 10 AM or around 2 PM weekdays when traffic is lighter.
So I have the light and am crossing a very busy intersection. Meanwhile a pick-up work truck has pulled to a stop near my crosswalk. Seeing me walking toward him, the driver moves his truck into the pedestrian crosswalk, so that to pass him I would have to step into a lane of moving traffic.
Another pickup behind him stopped way back, giving the truck that was obstructing me ample room to back up out of the walkway. When I reached the obstructing truck's cab, I smiled and gestured for the driver to back up.
The driver was 20-something and looked like one of the bad guys in Deliverance, except younger and not so outdoorsy. He had greasy blonde hair, bad complexion, bad teeth, and nicotine-stained fingers. He smirked at me while biting his nails.
I said, "Please back up--you have plenty of room." More smirking--more nail biting.
After a moment I very carefully walked in front of his truck, half-way apprehensive he might accelerate. A polite driver who had the right of way paused until I could reach the sidewalk.
I was very angry about this incident as I continued walking home. Then I began to think about that young man's life. What sort of life has he known and what sort of life will he know in the future? What fortune-teller would predict achievement, contentment, or happy companionship for him? Clearly his prospects are not good. I began to feel a bit sorry for him.
I'm fine with never having to see him again, but my anger was unnecessary. And I suspect that the annoyance and exasperation I showed was at least partially the feed-back he was trying to elicit.