When the bird won’t do

This morning on the way to work I saw a guy finish his breakfast, ball up the paper bag it came in, roll down his window and toss it on the ground. He immediately caught my eye and started chiding me (with his motions) for powdering my mess of broken capillaries that passes for a face.

I started yelling at him about his trash. I rolled down my window (passenger side – he was to my right) to make sure he knew what I meant. He had hypocrite all over his face. I could see that he routinely chides his wife/lover/significant other/spouse/ward/charge/his own mother/(your name here)  for stuff that he does all the time.

He knew I was angry and he was waiting to see my white middle finger once the light turned green. He glanced over, hoping for vitriol.

He got Gandhi. I pressed my palms together in such a way as to say, “I’m praying for you buddy.”  Not in that wimpy Christians-we-look-down way, in the Gandhi way.  I might as well have had a white diaper on.

Ape that he was, he had to do the same to me. Never was a man with a mustache so unappealing.

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6 Responses to “When the bird won’t do”

  1. Ann Erdman Says:

    Poor guy. Had no idea what he had gotten himself into. It may not be worth it to him to trash his community again!

  2. Suebob Says:

    If I ever threw trash down, I am sure my mother would teleport to that location to slap me on the head. You’re the next best thing to a teleporting Mom.

  3. Pasadena Adjacent Says:

    This didn’t happen in Glendale did it?

    Can’t help you with achieving inner peace but I may be able to help you with your “mess of broken capillaries” (if you don’t mind pain). Eagle Rock electrolosist at 35 bucks an hour. Tags, hair and veins; aging is fun!

  4. Petrea Says:

    Fighting vitriol with kindness is hard to do, but to my mind it’s the most effective method. Well done.

    Suebob, your comment is funny.

  5. altadenahiker Says:

    I have no problem visualizing this.

  6. trish Says:

    reminds me of a guy who went ballistic on me, after seeing the “coexist” sticker on the back of my vehicular tush, with varying signs of religiosity to make the word. he spouted off about how “they” didn’t coexist with “us” and blah blah blah. I pulled over, got out, calmly went nose to armpit with him and said “you do realize that “their” anger and “their” bombing of “us” has *everything* to do with “your” kind of attitude and anger and why “they” hate “us” enough to do “those” things? Oh yeah, btw, that’s the point of my sticker. He was speechless. Couldn’t have happened to a better guy.

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