Road Rage is a growing problem in this country. There are countless reasons why a driver might cut us off or shout unfortunate words and gesticulate like a human windmill. He might be running late or have an actual emergency. Perhaps he’s had a bad day. Maybe he wants to prove his superior driving skills. However, I usually attribute this pervasive conduct to anger.
Unfortunately, this distasteful behavior occurs in venues other than roadways. Think of the bobbing and weaving in airport boarding lines. Consider the mad sprints at supermarket checkout lanes. Haven’t we all seen a shopper with twenty items torpedo her cart into the man holding a single quart of milk? The hapless fellow flies out of the Express Lane and ends up in the produce aisle. (Apparently for some people, “Express” is a mandate as to how one should operate the shopping cart.)
But my theory about anger being the main cause of such outrageous behavior was shattered when I became aware of Resort Rage.
My husband and I stayed at a lovely beach resort that had only two of its three elevators in working order. As an idyllic afternoon came to an end, vacationers and their beach bags, inner tubes, rafts, and children, had to wait a little longer for a lift up to their hotel rooms.
And when I say a little longer, I mean a few minutes more.
Nonetheless, what resulted was a variety of moves designed to get the mover into an open elevator no matter the cost. Some people took the direct approach and simply pushed. Others laid in wait before slithering in from the side like clever serpents.
Human nature being a frail and gullible creature, this kind of behavior is contagious, and I am ashamed to admit my husband and I caught the “Sneaky Bug.” In a desperate attempt to outsmart the crowd with Machiavellian brilliance, we came up with our own “elevator playbook” designed to secure a spot inside the first elevator that opened.
We finally realized behaving as if we were in some kind of rugby scrum was neither worth it nor polite. So we ceased our plotting, resisted the urge to beg: “Please, people, can’t we all just get along?” and resigned ourselves to wait the extra few minutes.
Lest you think accidents only happen on the road, an elderly lady was actually knocked down by the scrimmaging crowd. Luckily, she was unhurt, and after thanking us for helping her up, she gave a rueful smile and said: “Well, I guess those other people are just more important.”
That’s when I realized what this elevator madness was all about. Not rage, not having a bad day, not control, not impatience, but entitlement.
It’s certainly possible a small percentage of our fellow vacationers had a genuine need to dash to their rooms (sunscreen in the eye, sand in unfortunate places, etc.). But what caused rage? We had all enjoyed perfect weather, a long relaxing day at the pool or beach, inhaled the smell of Coppertone until we were giddy and downed several fruity frozen drinks.
These people were not angry. They bulldozed their way in like thundering wildebeests because of a belief they deserved to get on that elevator. (This “deserving” had nothing to do with actual ownership of the elevator; as far as I’m aware, no one in that crowd had the surname of “Acme, Inc.”) Such behavior not only trampled over basic rules of courtesy — not to mention the elderly lady — but it set an unfortunate example for people’s children.
As a parent, I believe we must teach our kids good manners and an understanding that delayed gratification isn’t the end of the world. Would telling a whiny, sand-covered child: “Not a big deal, we’ll catch the next elevator,” truly have resulted in ten years of psychiatric therapy? Adults who aggressively secured their kids an elevator spot fostered a sense of superiority. Raising a child in this atmosphere of entitlement encourages him to measure his successes by other children’s failures. By cutting people off who were already waiting, we tell our kids it’s okay to shiftily maneuver if it helps us get ahead.
This pervasive entitlement creates another problem. Entitled kids are never grateful because if they get what they want, well, that’s how it’s supposed to be. And if they don’t, well, then they get angry.
Ah, back to classic Road Rage.
So regardless of the setting (crowded airport, jammed highway or sun-drenched resort), let’s remember life isn’t all about us. No one is “better” than anyone else, and we can become our best selves by remembering other people matter.
We must also remember, children learn by example.
And kids are always watching.
This article was published in The Jewish Advocate on June 5, 2015.
