Paul Riismandel

This past fall I was on my way to work, bicycling as I usually do, through the busy streets of Chicago and Evanston. Just blocks from my house I was at a stoplight waiting to make a left turn. Behind me I heard angry honking, getting closer. I turned to see what was happening as a minivan pulled up in the lane next to me, followed by a late-80s vintage American sedan, the source of the honking.

A middle-aged guy was driving the sedan and rolled down his window to shout, “Where’d you learn how to drive? You didn’t even stop, I nearly hit you. Where’d you get your license, a box of cracker jacks?” Moments later a younger guy — maybe 20 years old — gets out of the driver’s side of the minivan and starts swaggering towards the sedan.

“You better stop honking at me or I’m gonna fucking…” I couldn’t quite make out what the young guy was threatening, but from his stance and demanor, I was pretty sure it was a  physical threat.

I’m standing  there, dismounted from my bike, watching this go down, not 10 feet away from me. The light has probably changed and I’m wondering if there’s going to be violence. Like it often does in tense situations, time seemed to slow down as I watched these two go at it. Strangely, I didn’t feel at all scared or threatened, just concerned. The two interlocutors didn’t seem to take any note of me at all.  I decided that it might be best if I actually stayed there, that having a ready witness might serve as a tiny disincentive for someone to step it up notch, as cars started to line up behind the sedan.

“You’re gonna what? Are you threatening me?”  the middle-aged guy yelled back, with the kid now standing barely a yard away.

The kid responded that he was going to do something, this time not quite loud enough for me to understand.

The middle-aged guy looked back at him somewhat stunned, but not quite scared and told him, “Well then I’ll call the cops.” He seemed to be aware of my presence and the people watching from their cars behind him.

The kid seemed taken aback, and said, “Fuck you, if you ever honk at me again…” waving his hand as if to brush the guy away. He swaggered back to his minivan, got in and made a right turn out of the intersection.

I was certainly relieved that things ended without a physical fight and was ready to get back on my way.  But the light was still red so the middle-aged guy pulled up to me. Obviously still steaming from the confrontation, he started complaining to me, “Back there he just blew through a stop sign, almost hit me. If I hadn’t been paying attention it would have been bad. Did you see that?”

I’ve been there myself so many times. You have a confrontation with someone and it gets heated and intense. Then it ends, often in draw, with neither combatant able to feel satisfied with a win. It’s anti-climactic and not at all satisfying. You’re still pumped up, your blood is flowing hot and fast and you still want satisfaction.

But regardless of who did what in this situation, it was stupid and needless. So I looked at the middle-aged guy and tried to look calm and empathic while making several downward motions with my hand, trying to signal that it was time to chill. He paused a moment and I said, “It’s over now.”

The middle-aged guy broke a smile and said, “Thanks buddy.” The light turned green and we both went our separate ways.

I don’t know if he thanked me for assuring him things were over, or because he thought that was an indication that I was siding with him. It doesn’t matter, because he seemed to get at least some hint that there was no win to be had.  I wasn’t siding with either party. Certainly someone honking at you is no reason to threaten violence. But the middle-aged guy was  escalating the situation by continuing to honk and yell after the near-collision was over.

It’s kind of amazing to realize how both person’s emotions took over in this situation where the near-accident had already been averted. Nobody got hurt, no cars collided. Yet with that good outcome both men were nearly ready to come to blows and create a new collision over their reactions.

What was the point, for either guy’s action and reaction? What were they hoping to accomplish?

I can guess at their motivations, but I’m not sure even they knew why they were doing what they were. They probably were able come up with explanations after the fact, feeling perfectly justified in their course of action. But in the moment, it’s visceral, emotional reaction.

We choose to fight, physically or verbally, for all sorts of reasons. Increasingly, to me it seems what’s less important is why we fight  and what’s more important is how we can choose not to fight.