Average Jane

I wouldn’t stop at red lights…

As car after car poured through a red light intersecting 2 fairly innocuous streets, I cared more about the impediment to my day than the poor woman stuck in the middle of the road trying to escape the parking lot she was abandoning to surely begin her day.

My gaze bounced from her car to the traffic light (clearly green for my flow of one-way traffic) to the cars that wouldn’t stop to their light which appeared from my angle to be red.  Car-light-car-light-car. As our lane of traffic inched into the intersection, there seemed to be an unspoken mob mentality forming. Our cars inched forward. Hands were waiving wildly inside coupes and suvs. Our suburban-rules-following sensibility was being challenged.

But I was the first to honk. My horn blared once, then twice. Then I laid on the horn until a break formed in the flow. I shot a particularly dirty look at a smartly dressed woman with perfectly french-twisted hair.

As I sped around the car in front of me I noticed something. One of the cars had their hazard lights flashing. They seemed to be at speed, so I was confused. Then I noticed the car in front of theirs had their flashers on, too. And the one before. And the one before. They travelled at a uniformly somber pace down a road known for innappropriately fast driving.

A funeral. A procession of mourning friends and family. Looking into their cars I saw hands on foreheads.  Silent passengers and drivers. Not talking, at least.

They must have died around Christmas. This was the first chance to get everyone into town after the Holidays. And soon is the New Year. They will celebrate with an empty heart. They were celebrate with one empty glass of champagne, one seat not filled.

And I was the first to honk. On my way to a coffee shop to apply for jobs. It wasn’t the first time I had honked at someone either, and it wasn’t quite 11:30 am.

We don’t need New Years’ to take accounts of our lives. We need moments like that. Moments of humiliation and humility.

Lesson learned, my friends. Lesson learned.


Trackbacks & Pingbacks

  1. The Corner of Monroe and West Ox « Average Jane pingbacked on 9 years, 3 months ago


  1. * Mr. Emily says:

    I did that too once.

    The dude in front of me got out of his car and started yelling at me, “Dude, it’s a funeral ass hole”. I think he had some serious issues aside from what was going on there presently.

    How did I know? How did you know?

    Whatevs… Shit happens…

    Happy-Almost-New year!

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 6 months ago
  2. * trinity2 says:

    I was trying to turn left one time – in a gas-guzzling government vehicle I might add – and couldn’t figure out why the guy in front of me wasn’t turning so I laid on the horn. Only to find out they were waiting for a gentleman with a cane to cross the street. I felt like such and ass. Yeah, so I’m with you! Hey! Happy New Year to you, too!

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 6 months ago
  3. * Sam says:

    My brother and I got cut off once by a black cadillac, and he laid on the horn and screamed obscenities out the window. He asked me a second later, “where the f*ck did he even come from? It’s like he came out of nowhere.”

    “Yeah, I’m not surprised you didn’t see him, the driveway for that cemetery is sort of obscured by trees.”

    He hung his head in shame, which was kind of risky because we were still hurtling down the road at 50 mph.

    Happens to everyone once, believe it or not!

    | Reply Posted 9 years, 6 months ago

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