Have you ever heard 'no good deed goes unpunished'? Now you have. The other day, exiting my local grocery store and walking through the parking lot, a car passed me in search of a parking spot. He found one just up ahead, signaled, and made the turn into the spot all in one motion. Game over.
I continued to walk towards my car, which took me past his. The driver was just getting out as I walked by. My Imp of the Perverse, having successfully ignored most of the world's population for most of yet another day, decided that social intercourse and human interaction were just the ticket and lurched into action.
My ears heard my mouth offer in an extremely cheerful voice (I hate when I do that bonhomie 'hail fellow! well met!' crap) 'just so you know, your driver's side brake light is out,' which, as a conversational opening gambit, falls squarely in the innocuous bordering on moronic scale of exchanges. The driver, now standing beside his own vehicle looking at me evenly, noted in a flat tone of voice, "what's your fluckin' point" (but without the L).
I've collected good questions much of my life. I started out trying to pair each of them with good answers, but that rapidly became a bridge too far, so questions it is. And this was a fine one.
All I could do was smile-no words could adequately explain to the driver that I had only attempted to be helpful, but no worries (as my children's generation was fond of saying), SB, it won't happen again. Ever. As for that good deed, hardly a trace left in the here and now, just junk all across the horizon-a real highwayman's farewell.
-bill kenny
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