Hand Talkers

This post was originally going to be about an amateur psychology experiment that I was planning on conducting in my own home. I had this elaborate plan to discover if, in a pinch, my beloved boyfriend could be driven to the point of a) throwing out or recycling (preferably the latter, but I'm not pushing it) the empty box of Kleenex in the bathroom and b) if he could figure out where I keep the replacement box. Then I realized that it's not very nice or conducive to a healthy, loving relationship to perform psychological experiments on your loved ones and the poor guy has a cold, so would it kill me to put off my "I'm the martyr of cleaning" routine for a couple days until he gets better. Also, if he discovered that I was performing an amateur psychological experiment on him, he'd no doubt become somewhat cross with me. In fact I think I've guaranteed at least a "stop being a smartass. You're not impressing me" look from him just for writing this. Aren't I cute, honey?

So, yeah, I wasn't going to write about that. I was, and am, going to write about this. The street I live on is a fairly busy one and during rush hour it can be a bit of a bitch to make a left turn when you're travelling south. Sometimes drivers have to get a little aggressive and take chances. Like the chance that they're going to hit a pedestrian in a very well coordinated green ensemble. It happens more often that you'd think. In fact, one risk-taking driver nearly knocked me on my behind today (I should have known it would happen, wearing the green ensemble and all). I could tell that he felt badly about. He wasn't out to get me. He was just trying to get home in a challenging traffic situation and he grossly misjudged. Being a driver myself I was sympathetic to his plight. But what I didn't understand was the gesture he made to me in an apparent apology. It was like he was raising the roof with one hand, but instead of raising the roof, the angle of his hand was more like he was pushing me away in wimpy little hand spasms. It clearly wasn't the "hand wave of apology for an act you regret" that drivers so often employ. Nor was it the "stand band, talk to the hand because I'm a crazy ass mofo and the sidewalk is the only place you're safe, girlfriend" hand movement. It was something entirely incomprehensible.

The moral? I haven't got one. But I guess I would advise that should you almost run over a well-dressed girl on her way home from work and you feel badly about it, express it in a way that she'll understand. Since you almost took her life, it's the least you can do.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Dancin' in the Street" By Mick Jagger and David Bowie (yes, that version.)

HRH