I’m the best driver I know, whatever my driving record might say.
I don’t hog the right lane. I never tailgate. And I usually let people in ahead of me if they need to change lanes or enter traffic.
So why does it infuriate me so much when they don’t give a little thank you wave?
I don’t expect a medal. Nowhere else do I expect thanks for common courtesy.
But not seeing that little wave on the road makes me see red. I may not scream, but I will swear, fulminate about selfish, thoughtless, ungracious idiots and rail against the end of civil society.
It’s not like I’d follow the offender to demand thanks. I’m already likely running late for wherever I have to be, and whoever thanked an angry person demanding gratitude? More likely the opposite.
But still, is it really that hard to flick your hand up in thanks?
I know it’s ridiculously trivial. So many religions remind us that the best charity doesn’t seek acknowledgment. The great rabbi Maimonides ranked different kinds of giving, with giving when neither person knows the other’s identity up the top. As Saint Augustine wisely counselled, resentment is a cup of poison you drink while waiting for the other person to die. That person speeding away is already oblivious. My anger is pointless.
I know I don’t have to let anyone in. Perhaps driving more selfishly would save me the grief of being so enraged, especially as it’s only a little thing.
Or perhaps that’s why it’s such a big deal, because it is such a little thing.
That’s why I’m always scrupulous to put my hand out the window in thanks, just in case the kind person who let me in didn’t see it through the tinting. Only takes a second but makes a big difference. Try it – if not for me, then at least for the three other considerate drivers out there.
