HONK

HONK

I’m a major honker. When another driver pisses me off, I don’t yell or give them the finger. They usually can’t hear you yell, and they often won’t notice the finger. Those things just help you vent your anger. I want to share my anger with others. Honking not only pisses off the person who pissed you off, it pisses off other people who weren’t involved until then. It gets them to notice the injustice you have just suffered. That makes me happy.

I’m not a honking anarchist, though. There are rules to honking:

  • Only honk at people who deserve it.
  • Never honk in residential areas, especially at night.
  • Never honk at a police officer.

But last week, I broke the biggest, trickiest rule of all:

  • Never honk at someone you know.

Like most people, I don’t even look at who I’m honking at until after I’ve leaned on the horn for a good five seconds or so. Sometimes not even then. Other drivers are faceless and anonymous, especially if they’re seated way up high in an SUV. I don’t have time to crane my neck. Fuck you, end of story.

So, to the mailroom lady who’s been glaring at me and giving me the silent treatment all week: I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was you, but that’s no excuse. I thought you were stopping outside the garage because you were finishing a cell phone call. I hate when people do that. It blocks a whole lane of traffic and forces me to wait until traffic is clear so I can swerve around you. I’m not the one who’s making the call. Why should I have to wait, right? You see why that upsets me.

Okay, so your husband was just dropping you off outside the building. Well, golly, there’s nothing wrong with that. And I know he doesn’t usually do this. I’m sure it’s been hard for you to get to work these last few weeks with the bus strike stretching on and on as it has. It must be a major hassle. And you don’t need another driver hassling you because you were taking ten seconds to stop to get out of your car after a hellish two-hour commute that’s making your husband late to work, too, and costing your entire family a lot of money. Ten lousy seconds. I mean, really, what’s that guy’s problem?

I know it seems like the appropriate response to that is to ostracize the honker, to turn the other mailroom employees against him, to curse him out in Spanish whenever he comes in to drop off a letter. (I know more Spanish than you think I do.) But please, let’s be civil here. We’re not out on the mean streets now. There’s no honking in this office. I’m nice here. I’m quiet here.

I’m sorry.

Can I please have my shipment from Amazon.com now?

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