First come, first served.
That’s the essential protocol that exists both in day-to-day life and on the road.
Of course, there’s always someone who just has to do their own thing. That one little goose who decides “to hell with it, south is too crowded, I’m headed north.”
The area where this defiance is most troubling is with the nation’s stop signs.
Common sense tells you when two cars approach opposing stop signs, it’s the one who gets there first that gets to resume its journey first. The other is compelled to sit back and wait its turn.
When two cars reach those stop signs at the same time, well that’s another matter entirely. That just becomes an ugly war of attrition where the owners of both vehicles end up pointing wildly, cursing the other to the depths of hell, each inching forward until someone finally snaps and speeds off into the distance, likely with one finger raised proudly in the air.
It’s not perfect, but by god it’s the best modern man can do, unless you want stop signs on every intersection. First come, first served. It’s written in our DNA, ground into our very being since kindergarten.
The trouble starts, at least from my point of view, when someone who reaches the stop sign first, decides he/she is too good to go first. So that person points, or flashes his/her lights, indicating to me they want me to go first.
I didn’t get there first. I have no right of way. You got there first, you go first.
So I’ll sit there and wait a beat, but no they keep pointing and flashing and eventually I just go, fighting against every fiber of my being telling me that no, it isn’t my turn.
It ain’t easy. It’s like trying to ignore that internal mechanism that tells you to stop turning your head because you’re going to hurt yourself.
I don’t get it. Do these people think they’re doing me a favor by breaking the sacred code of the playground? Because they’re not. They’re wounding me and every other god-fearing, tax-paying American to the very core.
Of course, the person who gets there second and decides to go first is just as much a villain as this other person. But the person who jumps the gun at least makes sense. They’re in a rush and think wherever they’re going is more important than where I’m headed. It’s douchy, but it’s a kind of douchy I can understand.
This whole “look how nice I am, even though I got here first I’m going to let you go” just feels passive aggressive and wrong and I’ll come right out and say it: evil.
For without the code, we’re just animals in street clothes.