Posts
Okay so I'm waking my dog and my dog pooped and I clean it up in a black plastic bag and carried it on my walk. I am on Edgecliff Drive where I've walked for 29 years. It's trash day and all the bins are at the curb but they are already emptied.
I came upon a bin that had a plastic bag liner. So I thought great, and I dropped the bag in along with a soda can I found at Elyse's bushes.
A huge black construction truck drives up next to me and puts the window down. "Did you drop a dog poop bag in my barrel? I saw you looking around and then drop it in?"
I was looking to ask your permission, I said but I didn't see anyone.
And your dog peed on my tire!
Do you want me to let my dog pee on your tires and rims?
I glanced at his beat up Chevy truck the kind with the huge tires. The door had red painted script Verona's Home Improvement on the driver's side door. Duly noted, I thought.
I had no idea this was a crime, I said. I saw the trash barrel liner and thought oh good, I can throw my trash in the bin. I had no idea my dog peeing on a tire was bad either. I'm sorry.
Don't let it happen again he said.
Oh, I did drop a can in too, one I found at Elyse's bushes, I said pointing to her house.
The recyclables, that's okay, he said softening.
He was about 37 years old medium build with bald spot and black hair at the sides.
Last time I was parked up here the police were called and I explained to the motorcycle cop that I just cleaned up a pile of trash out at the island.
This is my linear park. I tend to pick up trash. I chatted with the cop and it turned out we had friends in common.
I've been walking up here for many years and so I've come to know nearly everyone a little bit.
I took off my sunglasses and took off my black leather trash picking gloves reached over and shook his hand. I'm Emily.
I'm Ethan, he said reaching out of the truck cab window.
Oh, the folks that lived in your house had 2 dogs
I have one dog, he said
and the wife was pregnant. They put up the big chain link fence. I recalled.
I'm new to the neighborhood. I moved in last October,
Welcome to the neighborhood, Ethan.
1 comment:
Poor Ethan, disarmed by civility.
People don't know what to do when you meet their rage with politeness.
I was on a stretch of two-lane highway near my house. The van in front of me was driving about 10 mph less than the speed limit. We reached a passing zone and I zoomed past it. There was a car oncoming in the other lane but I knew I could make it. Besides, there was really little choice. I'm one of those people who can't bear the tyranny of the slow driver.
So I passed. It was close but still within the margin of safety. I drove on and didn't think twice about it.
Until the driver of the van followed me home.
Turns out he was one of my neighbors. He has been a thorn in my side for years. Sees himself as the "mayor" of our neighborhood. Dislikes me because I refuse to act like one of his constituents.
So I pulled into my driveway, he pulled in behind me. He rolled down his window and started yelling at me that I endangered his life, that I put him in jeopardy and by extension his family and their future, and his grandchildren, perhaps even democracy itself.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't think I was endangering your life."
He hitched in mid-tirade. "What's that?"
"I said I'm sorry."
He scowled, uncertain. "Yeah well ... you should slow down."
He put his car in reverse and left.
When people come in hot, the last thing they expect is for you to be reasonable. It's not in the script. More often than not they withdraw, usually after uttering some lame got-the-last-word admonition.
This is the world we're in, where people are unequipped to deal with the words "I'm sorry," probably because they hear them so rarely.
Post a Comment