The other day I’m sitting in my car having some feelings. Maybe I am ugly crying. This is at the most crowded grocery store in Boulder at 5 pm-Hangry Hour. I accidentally drop my phone into the black abyss, open my door, get out, crouch down and feel around til I find it. Maybe 10 seconds. Get back in, reach over to the passenger side to grab my bag when I am startled by banging on my window.
He’s yelling at me. Hey! What’s wrong with you? You just hit my car with your door and ignore it?! Oh! I say, did my door hit yours? I’m really sorry, I didn’t notice. You didn’t notice??!! He’s growling now, a tall, fit man, about 60, fire in his eyes. How could you not notice?! I look up at him. I say, I can see that you are very angry. And...I am in grief. I’m very sorry, I didn’t notice. Let’s take a look.
And just like that, a shift happens. He leans in closer and confides, I AM angry! I’m pissed. But...not about this. There’s no mark. I’m just angry.
I look at him through my puffy eyes and say, I get that. I know anger. And we just look at each other for a moment, 2 messy humans. Two hearts.
I truly hope the evening is better than your day. I smile at this man. You too, he says, the flames gone, and I’m pretty sure he and I take a breath at the same time.