Yeah, Your Spit Don’t Stink

I had to think about this event for a while.  In the moments immediately following it, had I not been in the car, I would have grabbed my Blackberry and posted some Facebook status about it, I would have crafted a witty Tweet, and felt justified with my indignation.

Alas, I was in my car, and I was in rush hour traffic, heading home.  So instead, I thought about it.  I ruminated, no less.  This consumed my thoughts. All. The. Way. Home.

Once home, I was greeted by my very favorite 11-year old, and the incident melted into the cacophony of evening in my busy home. Ah, the bliss of 6th grade homework, a 6:45 Spin class, 10th grade girl angst and yes – dinner, eventually. At 9:30 PM. Don’t judge.

Oh, yeah…the incident in question.

So I am about five blocks into my evening commute on a sunny September 11, listening to the NPR voice reflecting on how the unseasonable warmth and blue skies are eerily similar to that fateful day eleven years ago.  I am not terribly stressed, as my day went well and traffic seems to be cooperative, if heavy.  (I don’t mind a time-consuming commute, just a jerky gridlocked one.)

I turn onto Bellefield Street, which boasts the Cathedral of Learning and Heinz Chapel on one side, and the Mellon Institute on the other. Decent stuff to look at, I must say.  There is only parking on the right-hand side of this wide, one-way street, and I am in the far left lane, as I will turn left at the traffic light at the end of the block.  Bellefield is one of the few streets in this part of town where there is a crosswalk splitting the middle.  Most have crosswalks at the corners, where they also have traffic lights.  And sometimes beepy things that go along with the bright-white “walking guy” that shows pedestrians that it is A-okay to cross.

I enjoy being a pedestrian, and I am one of those drivers who errs on the side of giving the lady with a stroller a little extra time.  I’m in favor of allowing folks to pass in safety.  I frequently piss off the driver behind me, who doesn’t understand why I am stopping until he sees the woman or man strolling along.

I admit frustration with the dipshits who cross against the light, take their time, and look at me like I am an asshole. Those people, I wish I had the courage to muster up a little road rage and rev my engine at them, following with a kindly hand-gesture or two.  But I am typically just not that aggressive.  And I am not a jerk. More or less.

So I am cruising, well below the speed limit down Bellefield, and perhaps it was the sunny day or my sunny disposition, but I just wasn’t looking as closely as perhaps I should have been.  (Wait for it – I’m for real about the next part.) I spy, to my right, a pedestrian crossing in the crosswalk.  He is 1/3 of the way across the white stripes.  I am on the opposing 1/3 area.  There is 1/3 of a street separating him and me. I didn’t see him in time to stop, but he was NEVER in danger of being struck by my car.  He was maybe…maybe…in danger of having to take a pause-step if and only if he broke into a sprint.  But still.  It is a douchey move to NOT allow a pedestrian to cross in his own crosswalk.

Even though people do it all the time.

So, my man – he decides that his best maneuver at this point in time is to SPIT AT MY CAR! It’s funny when it’s this guy.  It’s not so funny when it’s an angry walker, trust me.

I was…shocked.

Had the spitter never seen this poster?

What if he had tuberculosis or influenza, and was running amok spitting at cars? I can’t tell you how grossed out I am by even people spitting on the sidewalk.  There are, like, billions of germs in that shit.  Discover Magazine said so. In most Asian countries, you can get fined for being so disgusting.  And that’s for not even aiming it at someone!

Now, mind you, he had a wide enough berth in that crosswalk, that despite the severe arch of his head, his forward thrusting, and his sheer will to land mucous-laden saliva on my auto, he didn’t even come close.  Not.  Even.  Close.  So I felt a little justified that dickweed had plenty of room to cross and that I had not threatened his safety in any appreciable way.

Part of me wanted to get right out of my car and begin the finger-wagging tirade that this monster clearly deserved.  Then, I realized *I* was in the wrong first.  There’s not a super excuse for spitting, but still.  There’s also not a great excuse for blowing through a crosswalk, I suppose.

I did not get out of my car to scold.  I was, frankly, so startled that at first I didn’t know quite HOW to react.  I paused only briefly before rapidly congratulating myself for being a very friendly driver most of the time, and on this sunny day I had my window rolled down and shot him the finger out the driver’s side window with such a fury!  “Victory is mine!” I thought. Yeah, well.  I shortly afterward felt like a shit for giving the rude gesture.  Right about the time that I realized dude was walking toward me, (recall I am in the far left lane of a one-way street, so the sidewalk is just outside my window, yo), and I am stopped at a red light. *gulp*

I just sat there and prayed that the light would turn green before he strode alongside me, or I would have to formulate my lecture-response quite quickly.

“You would be better off shouting and quoting the law, buddy.”

“I pull over for EVERY goddamned ambulance, making a very CLEAR path.  I even tell my kids how important that shit is.”

“Do you NOT understand? I am MORE than a considerate driver. I’m super-cautious, I just DID NOT SEE YOU, douchebag.”

I am very glad to report that I didn’t have to employ any of these strategies.  The light turned green.  I thought about spitting and the grossness of it the whole way home.

Imagine what this would do to me!