Posted on June 25, 2009 - by Rasham

My Right of Way

There is nothing that irks me more than a chronic conversation interrupter. Bachelor blue eyes was funny, smart, and had a decent set of morals, but whenever I found myself surfing a wave of intelligent verbiage, I was most assuredly interrupted. Why do we do it? What makes us open our mouths soon after we’ve closed our ears to the person who has the floor?

When driving our vehicles, there is no greater crime committed against us than being cut off. It makes us feel as though we are invisible, as if a physical impediment is placed upon our right to progress; our right of way. Some of us become hostile, activating the annoying voice of our car horns to profess to the other driver the act of injustice which has been so wrongfully accomplished. Some of us seek revenge, operating our machines in an aggressive manner so as to make the original prosecutor feel threatened. And some of us shrink within the walls of our mobile cage, silently cursing the offender, but offering to let the matter slide easily into that deep abyss of our minds, joining other decayed memories rotting in the coffin entitled ‘awkward confrontations with assholes’.

There is no standard protocol dictating reactionary measures for traffic incidents of this sort. But I think we can all agree that being victimized in a classic case of roadway cut-off is an overall unpleasant experience.

In fact, we are taught the social importance of respecting personal space as our very first lessons in school. Standing in line for chocolate milk, all the little tykes are encouraged to practice discipline and patience, and are rewarded with gold stars for good behavior. This medieval practice of praising positive behavior by offering positive feedback educates little people about the significance of adhering to this social convention, and also teaches children to acknowledge the presence of their fellow little friends. In other words, we as children are taught that if you cut in line, play time will be cut in half.

As an adult, the conversational equivalent of cutting in the chocolate milk line is being cut off mid-speech. And, like the vehicular version of interruption, it is a serious violation of the principles under which every individual operates, that sacred code which says that every person be granted the freedom of expression and progression, and that that freedom be unrestricted and honored.

Nobody likes the playground bully, and the over aggressive drivers on the road are as equally unpopular. The habitual interrupter takes a seat amongst these social rebels, having in common that one characteristic which binds them: impudence. Once a man comes between a woman and her train of thought, the relationship is soured.  Bachelor blue eyes was funny, smart, and had a decent set of morals, but he came between me and my train of thought, and instead of continuing where I left off, I candidly said my peremptory goodbyes. After all, it takes courage to volunteer conversation on a date with someone with whom the potential of a future together is entertained. So ladies: be cautioned, be assertive, and unafraid; if you find yourself consistently cut off, stand up for your right of way, and move in another direction.