(This week we’re going to share something our dear friend Baxter Swenson wrote and passed our way. You may recall, Baxter chimes in from time to time. Hope you like it.)
C’mon-let-me-out, c’mon-let-me-out!
We’ve all been there. Slowly creeping forward. Inch by inch until we see someone gesture they will stop short and make room in the queue. Or, in some cases there is no gesture, just a social contract that I am coming and you are going to have to deal with it because after all, we have all been in the same situation.
Yesterday was the latter. No gesture, just a hope that the social contract is alive and well.
I don’t want my car to get hit, you don’t want your car to get hit. Social contract. Get it?
I give the obligatory wave with the same flippancy of popping someone the bird. Casually I look in the rear-view mirror to size up the driver that honored the social contract. I am wearing my shades so human eye contact can continue to be avoided. I first notice the vacant passenger seat. It is black. It has contrast white, diamond stitching. The driver stares ahead enjoying a cigar the size of a roll of quarters. The small crack in the window lets the world smell time and air’s effect on tobacco leafs. Sunglasses on – he must know the eye contact game too.
“Nice Bentley,” I think to myself as the single file line of ants slowly creeps their way to the traffic signal. I better let this guy in from the next cross street so the guy behind me knows I have paid his good deed forward.
Stop, go. Stop, go. Red, green. Red, green. Crap. I make the light, the guy I let in makes the light. Mr. Bentley? He gets a few more minutes to savor his cigar, cow hides and diamond stitching.
While making progress toward my final destination I think about the good deed that was repaid and ultimately cost the one who honored the social contract more of his time. No lie, I felt a little guilty. Did the social contract fail? Did karma go on holiday? Perhaps not. Perhaps the driver was given just what he wanted – a few more minutes of luxury, peace and solitude from the world outside. I am not sure he sees it that way but I wish my Bentley could offer the same momentary respite.
Where is that next red light?
Courtesy of Baxter Swenson
