Tuesday, October 26, 2010
The other day at lunchtime I was in my car driving through a not-so-great neighborhood to get to Target for the very important task of picking up a razor. (Read previous blog as to the reason behind this very important task!)
My first thought as I was driving through the not-so-great neighborhood was to get through it as quickly as possible. Well, actually, that was my second thought. My first thought was, I should probably activate the automatic car door locks.
Naturally, I got stopped at a light in this not-so-great neighborhood. Nobody bothered me, although I did see someone with a dirty rag and a spray bottle of water who wanted to clean windshields in exchange for a few bucks. No, I’m kidding. Because if I had seen someone with a dirty rag and a spray bottle of water who wanted to clean my windshield, I might have let him; it couldn’t have made my dirty windshield any worse.
Anyway, while I was stopped at the light, I noticed the car behind me. The car was what is affectionately known as a POS and at first I thought the shocks were completely gone on the thing because the car was bouncing up and down.
And then I realized it was the driver. There he was in his POS, with a big grin on his face, singing at the top of his lungs to the radio. Or, I don’t know – maybe he was singing at the top of his lungs to a song in his own head. Either way, he seemed very happy.
As soon as the light turned green and traffic started up again, I noticed that he was also dancing. His entire upper body – what I could see of it anyway – was moving around to the beat. And we are not talking unobtrusive little moves. No, we are talking full-on gyrations.
I sincerely hoped that he had at least one foot available to hit the brake, should that become necessary. I didn’t want his day ruined – or mine either – by his running into the back end of my car. He would have had to admit to the officer that it was an accident caused by excessive dancing.
Eventually he turned, but I found myself smiling the rest of the drive to the store. For all I know the guy could’ve been under the influence of more than just his favorite music. But I prefer to think that he was simply listening to music that made him happy. And, in turn, he made me a little happier.
I guess it’s true that sometimes we really don’t know what we do that can affect someone else’s day – either in a good way or in a bad way. I am positive this guy didn’t know that he made me smile. He was in his own little world and certainly wasn’t self-conscious about singing and dancing to the music playing in his car.
Nevertheless, it affected my mood and I was grinning as I walked through Target. And a couple people passing me smiled at me in return.
I decided to see if I could also get the cashier to smile. No, I didn’t tell her that I was buying the razor and an extra large package of replacement blades to deal with the monkey hair on my legs, although that may have done the trick.
Instead, when she asked me if I’d found everything I was looking for, I just smiled and said, “Well, no. I was looking for Brad Pitt and a million dollars, but couldn't find either one. Maybe Housewares is the wrong department?” In response, she looked up from her scanning, grinned and said, “Well, when you find out which department they’re in, let me know, would you?!”
Yeehaw. Mission accomplished.
I’m probably never going be the person singing and dancing in my car so much that the person in the car in front of me laughs at my antics…but sometimes it only takes a smile.
And if that doesn’t work, I can always tell ‘em the monkey hair story…