The Death Stare

I know I'm not the first to write about this, but what the Hell is it about getting into a car that makes you act like other humans are merely disposable annoyances? Why is it ok to risk my life so you can get to church 15 seconds earlier? Why are you willing to spend $60k on a car, but don't support a municipal bond (just a few dollars a year) that would pay for a safer route to the local elementary school?

And why do drivers, when they screw up, cut you off, pull out in front of you, or almost kill you in any of the thousand ways they can, give you that look that says you don't even exist? Why do they look right through you? There it is, that blank stare that says, "your existence isn't worth delaying my trip to yoga/church/coffee/transcendental meditation for 10 seconds, because for all I know, you don't really exist."

Today it was my neighbor. On my cul de sac. Two doors down. She has four kids. We bought girl scout cookies from them. I helped jump start their car. Just yesterday I helped her daughter find her softball (and I had to get off my bike, in my road shoes, to do it). Her kids have bike races in front of my driveway. She came flying out of her driveway without looking, forcing me all the way over to the left side of the road and into the curb. Then she gave me the death stare. No smile. No 'oh my god, I'm sorry.' Nothing. Just looking right through me.

But there is good news. My trips to the chiropractor have been of some use.