I hear you.

We sat at that stop light for what felt like eternity. Waiting through cycle after cycle, as the drivers in front of us failed to promptly go when the light turned green. Over that time I began to full a comradery with you. It was me and you, suffering together.

Then it was finally your turn at the line. It was your opportunity to right the wrongs that had been done to us by those previous drivers. The light turned green, and nothing. You too betrayed the courtesy that the motorized public owes each other. The light turned green and we just sat there. The betrayal was so much more worse because of all that we had been through together.

I wanted to express all of this to you. I wanted to tell you that this is a reason why traffic is so bad in this city we share. I wanted to tell you that it's dangerous to be driving while distracted. You were in a big metal box that can easily kill people, and that is a responsibility you shouldn’t take lightly. I wanted to tell you how I expected more of you.

So I honked my horn and yelled, “Will you fucking go!?”

I know that by yelling “fuck you!” and giving me the middle finger, you were trying to say that we choose to live in Portland because it is a friendly place. Not the kind of place where we honk our horns and scream obscenities at each other. That you were disappointed in my frustration. That the anger isn’t worth the extra two minutes we spent at that light.

I’m not here to say either of us is right or wrong.

I just wanted to let you know that I heard you.