Sometimes it’s the little things that make you laugh.
I’m at work this morning, and my boss calls me. We usually have video conferences via our computers. Many mornings, he will call to chat (he works in Austria) about work related issues, plans etc. We often digress into things like the weather, life, and what happened on the weekend. Well, this morning, I noticed that he had gotten a haircut. I normally wouldn’t notice this kind of thing, or perhaps not mention it if I did, but I was aware that late last week he couldn’t get to his planned hair appointment due to a comedy of events at work and elsewhere.
So, I mentioned the haircut. He said that he had just gotten back from the “hairdresser”, and me being me, I of course picked on his choice of words.
“Hairdresser? I go to a barber like a real man! Women go to hairdressers.” I didn’t exactly say that, but it was something along those lines.
We wasted a few minutes bantering about this and out of the blue he asked, “Does your barber have a website?” It looked to me like he was ready to punch in the address into his keyboard.
I replied, slowly and deliberately, “No… he, um, has a comb… and a pair of, um… scissors.”
I know. I’m an asshole.
A couple of weeks ago, I’m driving along in my car, listening to the radio and minding my own business. Then this guy in the next lane decides he wants to be in my lane, directly in front of me. He didn’t exactly cut me off, but there wasn’t a whole lot of room for him to get in there. I didn’t really react, I simply cocked my head to one side slightly and thought, “Hmmmm… that’s interesting.”
Somehow, the dude saw my subtle movement and took offense. He must have been looking for my reaction to him squeezing in. He shook his head and put his hands in the air. So, I gave him a wink. Just kind of did the Newfoundland twitch of the head and winked at the same time.
I don’t think he liked this, because I got the one finger salute. He was clearly unhappy with me.
So, a little ways down the road, we both approached a red light. He pulled into the left turning lane and I rolled up beside him, but a little ahead of him, in the next lane. He inched ahead and started yapping at me with his hands in the air.
I lowered my window and so did he.
“Can I help you?”, I calmly said.
“I didn’t do anything wrong!”, he snapped.
“I didn’t say you did,” says I.
“I didn’t say you did anything wrong,” I repeated.
“Oh,” he said, “I just don’t like going around with hard feelings!”
“Yet, you gave me the finger?”
“Sorry about that,” he said.
His red arrow turned into a green arrow. He bid me good day and drove on.
I’m still not sure if he was angry at me, or just wanted to be.