She came tearing around the bend in the very narrow lane, only just managing to pull her four-wheel drive rocket to a halt before sliding into us. “Lady,” I muttered, “slow the hell down!” She quickly reversed into a small lay-by and waited for us to pass. As we did so, giving a wave of thanks, our gaze met – and she was staring, with strange, mad eyes, whilst furiously chewing gum… with her mouth wide open. I haven’t seen anyone chew gum that way for years, certainly not since I was a teenager. The whole thing made an impression on me, and I shared the story with one of my daughters later that day. “I bet it was nicotine gum,” she laughed. “Driving like a maniac, angry, staring eyes, and chewing as if her life depended on it!” Hmm, not being a smoker, I hadn’t considered that possibility. We’ll never know for sure, of course – but it sounds like a plausible explanation. Other than her being straight-out crazy (or high on something… that thought only just occurred to me).  

But it took me back in time, maybe 40 years. I had taken a position as an advertising salesperson with a large, regional newspaper. And the very week I started, a ‘no-smoking in the office’ rule had come into play – and I believed I’d entered into the angriest place on earth. Most of the staff were female, and most of them smoked… and hell hath no fury like a woman with an addiction to tobacco who has to wait until the next break to get her fix. Throw hormones into the mix, and… well, you get the picture. I was pleased and relieved that I didn’t have to work in a fog of fag smoke, of course – but, for the first few weeks, I kept my head firmly down… with one hand resting on the holy water and silver crucifix in my desk drawer.

We’re all dealing with our personal crap, aren’t we? Things that aren’t obvious to the rest of the world, but wear us to the bone. We have to play along with polite society, but sometimes the rage ends up seeping through. I remember being awoken in the early hours of one morning, several years ago, to the sound of yelling, accompanied by something smashing. I climbed out of bed, leaned out of the window, and immediately located the source of the disturbance. A few doors down was a shop with a flat above. A panicked gaggle of older people were tumbling through the door onto the street, and hurrying away… whilst a clearly enraged woman was hanging out of the window, hurling abuse, cups, plates, and anything else she could lay her hands on. It was entertaining to watch, I have to admit. However, as we lived on a main street, I knew I couldn’t go back to bed and leave the road covered in broken crockery – so there I was, at 3 a.m., in my dressing gown, sweeping up the aftermath of what appeared to be a family (probably drunken) fall-out. The following morning, I imagined the missile thrower waking up and suddenly remembering what had gone down the night before. Was she immediately mortified, awash with shame (been there and done that, under different circumstances)? Or, was she still in a murderous state of mind, not embarrassed or sorry at all? And I wondered what the cause had been? A one-off, alcohol-fuelled explosion – or a long, slow build-up of pain and resentment that finally burst its banks? 

Anyway, I have noticed that women are driving faster around the lanes where I live. I don’t know why I’m surprised when a vehicle comes flying past, taking up more than its share of the available space, forcing us to come to a stop or pull right over – as the driver roars by, eyes resolutely on the road ahead, as if we don’t exist – and it’s a woman. I’m probably being sexist in saying that. It’s just that it didn’t used to be that way. Are women more confident drivers now (though not necessarily competent)? Or, are they under more pressure, rushing from pillar to post, trying to juggle family, work, and life in general? Or maybe they are becoming more aggressive, adopting a screw-you-get-out-of-my-way attitude? I really can’t say, for sure – but young women can be pretty scary behind the wheel, these days.

We’re all dealing with the irritations of life, aren’t we? I got peed off yesterday, seeing that someone had left their shopping trolley in one of the few available parking spaces outside the supermarket, rather than returning it. “You lazy sod,” I fumed – “I detest your attitude!” I took it with me, into the store, not wanting people to think that we’d left it there when we pulled away (don’t want to be seen as one of ‘those’ people).

And there’s one particular female who works in a shop I regularly visit, who has attitude oozing out of every pore, without being obviously rude. She has an impatient, dismissive manner – arrogant, even. It’s not a big deal, but it’s that couldn’t-give-a-shit stance again – and I’ve realised, whilst writing this, that I have a particularly strong aversion to it. There might well be reasons for her behaviour – hates working there, for example. It’s beneath her, and she despises all of the customers equally. Or, possibly, it’s just me she dislikes. 

Let’s face it, on a daily basis, there can be any number of paper cuts to the mind and soul. We all have to exist within our own, individual universes, whilst never really knowing what is going on in another’s mind, day, or life. We have our own rules and laws within our personal universe, which are often completely different to others’ rules and laws in their universe. We all judge others, even if we pretend we don’t. Most of us compete with others, too, in all manner of ways – again, whilst pretending we don’t. Even to ourselves. Thank God we can’t read each other’s minds… I’m not sure the human race could survive that.

On the other hand, thinking about it, most of us are way more tolerant than we give ourselves credit for. Every day is awash with opportunities to get into conflict with others – and yet, largely speaking, we don’t. We mostly don’t bite back – we smile and walk away. We mostly don’t react to rudeness, selfishness, or inconsiderate behaviour. We mostly put up with another person dominating our time by banging on about themselves. We mostly endure those who cut us off in mid-sentence, as if they hadn’t heard a word we’d uttered. We mostly put up with those who consistently offer unsolicited and unwanted advice. We mostly – well, you get the picture – say nothing about the stranger who talks way too loudly, for way too long, in a public place; about the fusspot who holds the queue up for what feels like hours over some petty or minor non-event; the people who hog the centre aisle of the supermarket to conduct a conversation… and the list goes on. I bet you could add a hundred other things yourself. I certainly could. 

We might (because we are only human) silently fume. And we might, occasionally, snap and tear someone a new one… coming across as an antagonistic jerk, to an audience who isn’t aware of how many fucks we’ve already given away before realising we’ve completely run out. We don’t have one single fuck left to give.. until we’ve built up our supply again. Obviously, some have fewer fucks to give in the first place, and so run out pretty quickly. Others appear to have an almost (but never completely) unending supply, but even they, the saintly ones, have a breaking point.

If you think about us human souls in this way, you have to admit that we’re actually amazing. The self-restraint we practice, the acceptance, the patience, the compromise – without even having to consciously think about it (well, most of the time, anyway) explains how we’ve managed to make it this far. We could so easily have torn each other limb from limb a very long time ago.

However, it is also true that some of us are doing the work of 10. Relative peace is maintained because some people are more willing to be ‘the bigger person’ more often than others are. And it’s a necessary but thankless task. A bit like cleaning up a nasty mess before it’s even been created. Stopping the onslaught in its wake. Holding back the tsunami before it lands… prevention being, as they say, better than cure. Sometimes, though, even the most consciously supportive among us feel very tempted to loosen the rope and allow the ‘problem’ to fall a few feet to dangle above the abyss – just to remind them how good they actually have it. For their own good, of course. No one can live up to their own potential if they’re perpetually being tolerated or pandered to, like an angry, spoiled toddler. 

I suppose the best way to end this “thinking out loud” ponderance is to say, look, we are all at the mercy of a thousand irritations that come with living life on planet Earth. That’s not a negative, it’s just a fact, plain and simple. However, here’s some advice: Don’t unnecessarily be a dick. Remember that you’re sharing this space with other human souls who might even be having a tougher time than you are, right now. Stop racing along narrow, bendy lanes as if you’re the only car on the road, barely able to scrape to a halt, when – surprise, surprise – you come face to face with another vehicle – thankfully travelling mindfully enough to save your bacon. And, on top of that, don’t glare at them with deranged eyes as they crawl past, giving a polite wave of thanks. Oh, and close your mouth when you’re chewing gum. It’s disgusting.   

(Banner picture by Juanmonino, Getty Images, from Canva).