Strongly Worded

Adult Content

I followed the beloved A.'s instructions and saw Lars and the Real Girl, which I loved, and which is sweet and sad in the way of Garden State and Lost in Translation.

In one of the movie's key scenes, the main character asks his brother when he became a man. And he responds by saying that adulthood is marked by the desire to do right: not (necessarily) what's right for you, or what feels right in the moment, but what's best for the community or people you care about. (I'd add that in addition to the aforementioned indicator, some other markers of adulthood include hiring movers, acknowledging (and ideally accepting) your parents' flaws, and staying in hotels and opposed to hostels.)

In any case, I had a flicker of adulthood on Friday, when I tried to back out of my driveway, which was slightly obstructed by a car that had parked too close. After an agonizingly slow, careful, billion-point turn, I was stuck in the middle of the road, and I gently bumped into the car.

I suddenly heard screaming, and I mean screaming. A neighbor raced down the stairs of his home, still in his bathrobe, and unleashed a torrent of obscenities upon me that almost reduced me to tears. My driving, though unskilled, was so clearly careful that I couldn't (still can't) understand where the rage was coming from - and while I had bumped the car, the only damage was a tiny (and I mean tiny) scratch. I apologized despite the defensive rageful feelings that his behavior triggered, and drove away.

I remembered how awful it is to live near unreasonable people who harbor (unreasonable) grudges. And then I squelched my defensiveness and decided to Be the Better Person. While the neighbor had behaved horribly, I had, after all, nicked his car. I drove to the local florist's and dropped $30 on a seasonal bouquet.

I felt like a major adult when I presented it later in the day. The guy was clearly struck by his jerkiness, and its contrast to my lovely neighborliness. He actually apologized for yelling at me. I accepted his apology, smiled, and took off.

Now I'm too scared to park anywhere near his car, but at least I am damned grown up.

Posted by Dori at 1:14 PM