Why It’s Not Called Aloha Monday
Wednesday - August 31, 2005
There’s a reason it’s “Aloha Friday,” not “Aloha Monday.” There’s no one more grouchy than the Monday morning commuter, trudging his or her way to an eight-hour workday through bumper-to-bumper traffic.
It was a bad time for my car to break down in the middle of a main thoroughfare. But there I was at the intersection of Waialae and Kapahulu avenues, in the center lane of three, heading to the freeway entrance. We were all stopped at the red light.
When the light turned green, I was slated to be first out into the intersection. However, when I pressed the gas, my car lurched forward, made a big clunking sound and then dropped a couple inches on the left side.
“Oh, boy,” I said out loud to myself. “That didn’t sound right.”
Hesitantly, I tried to press on the gas a little and the car lurched again. I threw on my hazards and got out to take a look as irritated morning travelers tried to maneuver around my obstruction.
What I found was three of my wheels were facing forward as they should have been, but my driver’s side front wheel was turned completely to the right. I had no idea what that meant.
So there I stood, in my heels and work clothes in the street. I frantically called Sebastian, who was already well on his way to work.
“Help!!” I squealed into the phone. “My car just stopped and my wheel is turned in and I have no idea what’s wrong!”
In seconds, my hero was on his way to rescue me. But as I stood there in the middle of the road, I realized at least 200 or more cars had gone by and not one person had even slightly braked to ask if I was OK or needed help. No aloha-giving, self-sacrificing, helpful stranger stopped to help me push my car out of the middle of traffic. Where were Pamela Young’s “Applause” angels?
Ten minutes later, my Sebastian showed up and helped me get my car out of the way (barely). The wheel couldn’t go straight and all we could do was make an awkward right U-turn into the nearest driveway, which happened to be owned by a Korean tour company.
Waiting for the tow truck, a woman from the tour company came out and grouchily asked, “When are you going to move this?! How long?” pointing at my car, which clearly left more than half of the driveway for her vans to get in and out.
Apparently, Monday morning is all about getting out of people’s way. No one has time to stop and help; there is work that needs to get done.
I waited for over an hour for the tow truck to come and I missed an important MidWeek interview. It turns out the rack under my car snapped, leaving the wheel free-floating - thank goodness I was at a stop light and not coming down Pali Highway when it happened.
But what was more disappointing to me was the fact that no one could be bothered by my mishap. Each passing motorist shot accusing glares at me, as if I were holding up traffic on purpose.
We all have meetings to get to and appointments to keep. But if it had been you stuck in the middle of the road - or your mother, grandmother or daughter - wouldn’t you hope a thoughtful citizen would stop and help them out of harm’s way? Even if it was a Monday?
Time to stew.
We all need a little time to stew. I don’t know about you, but I like to address problems right away. It’s torture for me to let things go and walk away from an issue. But there’s something to be said for taking a little time to “stew” or mull over something that’s bothering you. Time and distance often bring a different perspective.
Sebastian is better than I at taking time to stew when we get into disagreements. I tend to beat the issue into the ground, wanting to solve it immediately.
What he’s taught me, however, is that it only escalates our argument if we continue to talk about it. Give us a couple hours apart and we calm down. Most of the time, I forget why I’m so angry and so does he, and we have a good laugh about it.
So I have to say, I highly recommend the stew.
The all-knowing girlfriend.
Trust me, I know. Sebastian thinks he’s being covert, but after almost three years of dating I’m quite aware of what he’s doing and how he’s going about doing it.
Take, for example, the other week when we were at a fundraiser at the Ocean Club. It was not the typical clubbing crowd - there were more families present - so there wasn’t as much “eye candy” to keep Sebastian occupied.
It may sound rather weird, but I like to try to guess which girls Sebastian will notice when we’re out, since we’re both people watchers.
So when two attractive women entered the club I knew Sebastian would attempt a sly gander. I was standing behind him on the stairs when he caught an insufficient look at the two women before they moved behind a big pillar. I knew he was waiting for them to emerge from the other side so he could get a better look, so I, the all-knowing girlfriend, swung into competitive mode.
I tapped Sebastian’s shoulder to divert his attention in my direction, thinking this would ruin his chance to see the two women come out from behind the pillar, but Sebastian is way too slick for my tactics.
Instead of turning to look at me, he simply tilted his head back in my direction, with his eyes still focused toward said “eye candy.”
It was such a brilliant maneuver I burst out laughing and was forced to expose my little game. But just a few moments later, I proved once again my amazing abilities when I whispered in Sebastian’s ear just exactly what he was thinking of another woman who walked by.
Sebastian may have some good moves, but I am the all-knowing girlfriend. And nothing gets past me.
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