no more mr. nice guy?

The other day I was crossing the street (at a light, a light with a glowing white picture of a guy walking guiding my way) when I was almost hit by a car turning left, coming from the other direction (presumably with a red blinking light in front of him). I had to jump back a foot or two. I continued on my way when yet another car began turning left into me (now I was smack dab in the middle of his way). I look at him, wishing I had a golf club to bash in his windshield, but continued on my way...

It occurred to me then that these people didn't give a damn about me. In fact, they probably had scorn for me for stalling them ten seconds on their fucking way to fucking wherever. They didn't care that I had places to go, they only cared that I was in their way, they probably wished I wasn't there.

As I continued on my way, having been almost hit twice, I wondered why the hell I care about other people...I wondered what the point was to treating other people with respect, to looking out for their interests even at the expense of mine (if that's what it means). What's the point? They don't return the favor...rarely...ever.

I almost swore off the nice guy thing right then and there, convincing myself that being nice and caring is a waste that will never get me anywhere. But then I realized that that assessment was only half right...that it will never get me anywhere, but it is the furthest thing from being a waste. Waste is living a life as a slave to money, sex, time, and ego -- to be such that being delayed ten-seconds from reaching your destination induces loathing. It was a reminder that sometimes the best things in life -- or at least the right things -- are the hardest, and that makes getting no where all worth it.

I wish other people would see this, but I guess the best I can do is teach by example...by not being like these self-absorbed losers...by being what I want the world to be like.