Caught, Red-Handed
8.3.5
Today while driving home, I found myself at one of the more lengthy red lights in town. I happened to notice two people arguing in the SUV to my right. The only reason I noticed it, perhaps, was because the argument was carried out entirely in sign language.
I do not know sign language, so one might wonder how I even know exactly what was taking place. I suppose anger is somewhat of a universal language.
They were an older couple. The female was in the passenger seat, staring intently at the driver's hands. He looked forward the whole time, which makes me think that, while she required his gestures...he was probably listening to the distorted words that deaf people sometimes mumble while signing.
This was not a friendly conversation. There were no polite little pauses to allow the other person to "talk." They both signed furiously, at the same time, gesticulating wildly and stepping on each other's "words." Think about how hard it is to listen to someone while you yell at them. I can only imagine the difficulty in interpreting sign language, while simultaneously making your own.
I was fascinated by this couple. I stared at them, like I often do when I see something/somebody of interest. The only time my eyes moved away from the unfolding scene was when I would cast my gaze toward the traffic light, to see if it had changed it's mind about keeping me stopped there.
It was during one of those momentary glances that the driver (apparently alerted to my spying) had turned toward me. My head pivoted back to the right, and immediately my eyes locked with his. It was only a split second, but it said so much. He was staring me down. Marking his territory.
I did what anyone does when confronted with the fact that they have been caught, red-handed, invading a stranger's privacy. I pretended I hadn't.
I casually, and slowly, looked back at the light, as if our eye contact had been purely coincidental. I put my elbow up by the window and rested my head on my thumb and forefinger to signify that I was tired from my long day at work. I reached into my pocket to pull out a cigarette, taking just enough time to make it seem like a casual movement.
When the light turned green our paths parted. I turned left; they went straight. I had, once again, gotten away with my voyeuristic tendencies. At least this is what my clever ruse would have me believe.
And in the end, I think that's all that matters.
The whole thing probably lasted only 20 seconds, and I learned absolutely nothing from it.
