It’s 7:20 a.m. on a Monday morning and I’m opening the drawbridge for a sailboat. Traffic is backed up for a half mile in either direction. Joggers are jogging in place at the gates, and a few are giving me dirty looks. Horns are honking. Then the sailboat radios in to ask why the bridge is taking so long to open. I reply that the bridge is old, and even the best of us take a while to get moving on these cold mornings. Oddly enough, that really is true. Whether he believes it or not, it seems to mollify him, at least for now.
Once the bridge is opened, the sailboat seems to take his sweet time going through. Once he does, though, I close the bridge as quickly as possible and reopen to traffic. Several cars make a point of honking their horns when they pass, and I know that for a brief moment, I’m the most cursed person in town.
Come on, people. The average bridge opening takes LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES! And if you KNOW you’re crossing a drawbridge or a train track or anything that will potentially cause you a delay, you need to ALLOW for that! Joggers? Same response to you, only I’d probably add, “get over your skinny little self” at the end of it. And the sailboat? Nothing reminds me more of Marvin Martian than an impatient person on a sailboat. Such impotent, self imposed rage. Sheesh. I can’t imagine having a life that’s so important that a simple 5 minute delay causes such a disproportionate amount of irritation.
Then I notice I’m tapping my foot.
I guess we’re all works in progress.
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