Wednesday, October 19, 2011

I'M NOT YOUR SON

This morning, I was walking to my usual bus stop.  This involves walking down the same street for two-and-a-half blocks.  I'm generally equal to the task.

As I was walking, a car drove by, honking.  I first thought, who on earth is this woman honking at, at 7:10 in the morning?  I looked and saw another car in the intersection, but it seemed to be following traffic rules.  I shrugged and continued walking.

The car in question pulled up to the curb at the corner about 200 feet behind me, and the woman driving it honked again, rolled down her window and shouted

TYLER!!! TYLER!!!

Now, I've been called many things in my life, but Tyler isn't one of them.  I kept walking.

Then she made a U-turn and started driving toward me, still honking.  As she pulled up to me and started rolling down her window again, I turned toward her and fixed her with one of my best icy stares.

It was quite effective.  She apologized profusely.  Apparently, she mistakenly thought I was her son.  For the record, I'm not.  I decided I should say something nice to make her feel better, because I've been in similar situations before (not that I have a son, or ever drive, but I do sometimes mistake people from a distance and call out their name loudly, which is eventually quite embarrassing.  However, I was rather annoyed at this lady for driving around honking and mistaking me for someone else when all I was trying to do was walk to the bus stop like a good boy.  All that came out was, "Just wanted to make sure everything was okay . . ."  What does that even mean, I don't know.  But it was better than "I'm not your son!" which is all I really wanted to say.

She drove off.  I walked on.  Hopefully she found her son.  I found the bus stop, for what it's worth.

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