Today I was biking down SE Division Place on my way to the Esplanade and a produce truck parked on the right ride pulled into a u-turn just as I passed. I cleared him by an inch or two. He stopped. I stopped. I tried not to cry, and then I stood there, shaking, ten feet in front of him in the roadway, backing up traffic, thinking “Get out of the truck and come over here and apologize. Please. Say you’re sorry. Say you’re sorry. Come over here and say you’re sorry.†I wasn’t even angry yet; I just had this strange feeling that I should stay where I was, that it was his responsibility to resolve things.
And what did he do? It took about ten seconds, uncomfortably long, but he got out of the truck, walked up to me, put his hand on my shoulder and told me how sorry he was. He didn’t look, he said, he is so sorry.
What would have happened if instead of waiting and hoping, I’d circled back to his door to demand an apology? What if I’d gotten really angry and yelled? What if I’d written down his truck number and told him I was going to report him to his company?
It’s not often we have an opportunity like I had, to make space for an apology and a resolution. Normally drivers don’t even notice the close call or don’t bother to stop if they do, or the mistake is too serious and someone is badly hurt or even just too badly scared to react quietly and without anger.
But after this experience, I think I’ll look for opportunities, on the road and off, to give other people a chance to make things better, before I jump at them in anger.
