Jeffrey C. Long

I had the oddest experience yesterday while driving to class. They are doing some repair work on the road, and so I was stopped by a lone flagwoman. She was standing on the opposite side of my car, so I couldn’t regale her with my usual witty reparté. I waited, and waited, then waited some more. Listening to an NPR story on a young black student’s success in a boarding school that I’d heard the hour before. And all the while, I was the sole car waiting. It felt like being stuck in an elevator with someone who for some circumstantial reason you couldn’t talk to. For some strange reason I felt instantly more comfortable when a classmate pulled up and parked behind me. We weren’t alone anymore. Eventually the pilot car came along and we were all able to put the awkward moment behind us.