Flashes of Panic

Before the results started rolling in and my clerking role picked up, I had time to watch part of the freshman girls’ race at today’s cross-country meet. Actually, I didn’t watch much of the race. Instead, I watched the guy in his car, stopped by the Public Safety officer until the race passed by.

He was flipping the bird to each and every runner going by. That’s about sixty 9th-grade girls. And this was not some college student; this guy had to be at least ten years older than me (and about fifty pounds heavier, while we’re at it.) I noticed that not only was he pretty emphatic, at some point he rolled down his window to better communicate his point.

I also noticed he never had his hands out of the car while the public safety officer was looking his way (which was, admittedly, seldom).

I sort of wanted to say something to him, but I couldn’t figure out what. “Way to demonstrate patience and maturity, man”?

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