Is there anything that brings you down quite like an angry encounter with another person? Whether it’s a bad experience with customer service, an act of aggressive driving, or a simple argument over sports or politics, these moments have a tendency to affect us internally long after they come to an end on the surface.
Earlier this month, I learned a valuable lesson from one such experience.
I was driving back to my house late in the afternoon. As I slowed down to turn into my neighborhood, I noticed a red SUV alarmingly close to my bumper. I watched the SUV also turn in behind me, right on my heels.
As I pulled into the driveway, I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the driver (a middle-aged woman) going berserk. She flashed a few rude hand gestures and laid on the horn as she sped around me. I watched her blow through a stop sign, and speed off into the neighborhood pushing 50 mph.
As a representative of a local business (driving a company vehicle,) I felt an obligation to apologize for whatever I might have done to upset her. I followed in the direction she went, only to realize she was already in the process of turning around. By the time she circled around a cul-de-sac and headed back towards me, I was waiting for her with my window rolled down.
Her red Mercedes hadn’t even come to a complete stop before she embarked on a profanity-laced tirade worthy of a Quentin Tarantino movie script. Dropping F-bombs every other word, Red Mercedes Lady wove a tapestry of obscenities that, as far as I know it, is still hanging in space somewhere over Lake Peachtree.
At various points during her outburst, she referred to me as “stupid,” “dumb,” and “retarded,” among many other insults too sensitive to print in a newspaper.
A combination of shock and disbelief paralyzed me for 30 seconds or so while she continued to rant before I could string a sentence together. Upon asking her what on Earth was the matter, she told me (with healthy dose of cursing) that I failed to use my turn signal when I slowed to turn into the neighborhood.
I can’t say for certain if I was guilty of the offense or not, but even if so, the manner in which RML berated me for it was completely uncalled for and immature.
But, not wanting to reflect poorly on myself, I didn’t lose my cool. After attempting to apologize without any luck, I finally came to a realization — this was nothing more than an unhappy person determined to bring others down to her level at all costs.
So I told her that. “I feel so sorry for you.”
She actually stopped yelling and looked at me blankly.
I continued, “I feel sorry for you, because any grown adult who would behave like this towards another person must be really miserable inside. I feel sorry for you and I hope you find your happiness someday”
Her response, verbatim: “Well, I feel sorry for you because you’re too stupid to know how to drive!”
Realizing this was a lost cause, I drove off.
I must have recanted the story to nearly a dozen people throughout the rest of the week, and every time I did so I felt my stress level surging. Why would anybody talk to a complete stranger like that? Was I really deserving of such an attack? What’s wrong with people these days?
Then it hit me — instead of allowing this encounter to continue to bring me down, I could use the experience as a lesson to learn from:
Treat every person you encounter with kindness and respect. You never know what kind of a day they might be having, and the simplest act of kindness could mean the world to someone least expecting it. Likewise, be mindful of your words and actions in moments of frustration; the negativity you project onto someone will follow that person around for the rest of their day, too.
Peachtree City is a special and welcoming place, and it’s important that we remember to love our neighbors as ourselves to help uphold the standards our unique community has lived under for so long.
I’m sure Red Mercedes Lady has also thought about our encounter more than once. I’m sure she has recalled the incident to a dozen people or more too, although I’m sure she has her own version of the story. But what I want to know is, has she thought about what I said? Has she found her happiness? Was she just having a bad day, and did I somehow make it worse?
I may never know. Red Mercedes Lady, if you are out there, I hope you can take something positive from our encounter and apply it to your everyday life. After all, the community as a whole starts with every single individual that is a part of it.
As they used to tell us in school, “Make it a great day, or not. The choice is yours.”
Brooks Pfeifer
Peachtree City, Ga.
I agree with you the RML has a real problem, but you did a very dangerous thing going after her to find out the problem as people are getting shot lately when they confront road rage drivers. Glad you are OK.
LOL.
You basically created an editorial out of a standard Facebook rant.