Me First

If any man (woman) desires to be first, the same shall be last of all…

Mark 9:35

The parking lot at my local Post Office works like an oval race track.  There are two rows of parking spaces in the middle, and an open drive going completely around, with a third row of parking spaces above the top oval, right next to the building.  If you want to go to the mailboxes, you travel clockwise along the top of the oval until you reach the other end where the boxes are located.   If the lot is full and you need to use a parking space on the second row of the middle, you turn right into the lower drive and park.  The only entrance is on the left side of the oval, and the only exit is on the right side of the oval.

The other day, I had a stack of mail to put in the boxes, and waited patiently on the street until the traffic was clear and I could turn into the entrance.  Waiting behind me was a young lady in a white Impala.  Finally the coast was clear, and I was able to make the turn and follow the upper track of the oval to the boxes.  I was not looking behind me, and did not see the Impala come in and turn abruptly on the lower track.  If I had noticed, I would have assumed she was going to park. 

Au contraire.  She gunned her engine, shot through an open slot in the parked vehicles, and would have t-boned me if the Lord had not enabled me see her out of the corner of my eye and abruptly slam on my brakes.  Was she heading for one of the parking spaces right in front of the building?  No.  She was going to the mailboxes, just as I was.  She, however, did not want to wait her turn – she wanted to go in front of me.  Her callous disregard for the people around her was stunning.

When she skidded to a stop in front of the mailboxes, she dropped in her letter and sped away, right?  Nope.  The young lady put the car in park, reached down to get her letter (off the passenger floorboard?), fold it, put it in an envelope, address it, stamp it, and finally put it in the box, all the while laughing and talking on her cell phone.

It was scary to realize that she had absolutely no concern for my truck or my life. In fact, I’m quite sure she never gave me a thought at all.  She wanted what she wanted, and everyone else had better get out of her way.  It was not that she was in a hurry.  I ended up behind her in the turn lane to go home, and I missed two lights while she put on her makeup.  Life was simply all about her.