Playing Nice; or, Just Go Already!

It happened again the other day. I pulled up to a four-way stop about the same time as an older gentleman, and I waved him on through. Then he waved me through. I huffily heeded his prompting.

This happens quite often, although sometimes the other driver and I keep waving at each other, back and forth, until we've both got carpal tunnel. I just want to yell, "Go, you idiot! You beat me to the intersection by a full second! I'm being nice here!" Usually, I'm the first to crack, and I'm pretty sure the other driver snickers as I pass him or her.

It's like there's a competition to see who's nicest, which is so typical of the South. Up north, it's every man for himself. Stick your nose out there and claim that piece of asphalt. I lived in St. Louis for five months, and good luck making a left turn up there. And that's just St. Louis, not New York or L.A. I swear I'll never drive myself if I have to go to a place that big.

Down here, we're nice to a fault. We want to give charity, but we want no part in receiving it. How many times have you heard an exchange like the following: "I'll pick up the check." "Oh, no, allow me." "That's quite all right, I owe you for last time." "No, that was nothing. This one's on me." "See, I've already got my wallet out, so …" "I said I'll pay, dangit! I am the morally superior one here!"

Or if we do accept niceness from another, we feel obligated to decline. I suppose that's just good manners, but if I wave you through an intersection, just go already. I'm probably in a hurry.

Today's Redneck Moment: I reviewed my 3-year-old son on his college allegiance. Me: "What do you think of the Bulldogs?" Drew: "Phbbbt." Me: "What do you think of the Rebels?" Drew: "Yay!"