Two stamps = price for redemption

The pricey SUV pulled out in front of me even though there weren’t any cars behind me. That selfish maneuver’s nothing new, but what the driver did next infuriated me.

She held her hand out the window and gave me a “finger wave,” the kind that says “ta-ta – I’m ahead of you in my expensive car and I’m more important than you are.”

I saw red.

When I pulled up behind her at the light, I mouthed a few choice words about her heritage, her stupidity and her ignorance. She went ballistic, giving me a one-finger wave instead of her frivolous finger wave.

I turned into the parking lot of the store 15 minutes later, but the encounter left me sad instead of angry. She didn’t see anything wrong in what she did, but I reacted badly and made the situation worse.

As I walked through the grocery store, I grew more troubled, wondering why I was rude back to someone who didn’t deserve a second thought. I came around the corner and found myself face to face with another shopper.

She looked to be about my age, and she was alone. For some reason, I said I needed to talk to somebody.

This woman smiled and said “talk away.”

And I did. I not only told her what happened, but I told her how stressed I was and I felt I was chasing myself most of the time. I couldn’t remember the last time I struck up a conversation with a stranger in the store, and that’s unlike me.

Surrounded by the specials of the week, I was spilling my guts to a stranger who listened to everything I said. When I stopped talking, she smiled.

“You sound like you don’t slow down very often,” she said. “What that woman did was rude and it’s okay that you’re angry. It also sounds like maybe you’re angry about a lot more than this one incident. “

 “Give yourself a break,” she added. “That woman’s not worth it. Now go get some chocolate and you’ll feel better.”

We laughed, and I thanked her for listening to a complete stranger vent.

The underlying emotion for my anger and frustration, I realized, was feeling disconnected from other people. For the past few years, I’ve been so caught up in working, housekeeping, chores and laundry that I’d let friendships and conversations fall by the wayside.

The next morning, I was in the post office, and there were about 10 people in front of me. The last time I’d been in the post office, a mom was in front of me with two young children.

She told the postal clerk she was new to the area. And even though I knew about fun activities in the area, I didn’t say a word. I was busy, I told myself, but the shame of not talking to her stayed with me.

But this time, I started talking to the woman in front of me. She was happy to have someone to chat with and said she only needed two stamps.

“I have those in my purse,” I told her, and pulled out the stamps. She started to protest, but I told her I needed to do something nice for somebody.

In that long line, I felt myself reconnecting to the human race, all because of a chance encounter with a rude stranger and one with a kind heart.

I drove away from the post office with a smile on my face, grateful that two stamps was a small price to pay for admission to redemption.

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.