It was late afternoon, a Tuesday. I remember it vividly.

I was driving home from work. I had hit an unusually slow stretch of traffic at Highway 161, but as I arrived in north Arlington, I grew more optimistic that I would soon arrive home (My commute had already been interrupted once when I was diverted to a breaking news story).

Ahead of me, a traffic light had turned red. I would be the fifth car in line. As I approached, an SUV pulled to the end of a driveway and was waiting to pull into traffic. The left turn signal was on. I would leave enough space for the driver to pull out and continue on her way.

“She looks nice,” I thought to myself. “I bet she gives me a wave.”

My excitement about the wave was tempered by the realization that the courtesy wave had become the exception rather than the rule.

Ten years ago, everyone waved. How had society broken down so quickly? Was this an example of our national sense of entitlement? Was it fear? Is this what the terrorists were trying to accomplish?

I slowed to a stop just short of the driveway.

There was no movement.

Puzzled, I took a closer look inside her car. SUV Woman was eating a cupcake.

I grew concerned. This was not a long light, not like that one at Ballpark and Lamar where you have to sit forever even if there’s no ballgame traffic.

“If only we were there, ten blocks away, she could finish the cupcake and still have time to turn left before the light changed,” I thought. “No, no. That intersection has those grassy medians so you can’t turn left. You know that. Come on, Scaia, keep your wits about you.”

I know what’s going to happen. She’s going to look up, see that you’ve left her a space to pull out and start moving just as the light turns and you’ll run into each other.

Should I honk? The two brief honks maneuver can be a very effective and friendly sounding motivator.

A car had pulled up behind me. I grew increasingly tense. Any decision I made now could affect the future of another driver, a driver who found himself in this situation through no fault of his own.

Another car pulled out of the Kroger. I couldn’t honk. Not now. SUV Woman would pull out into our lanes of traffic and stop while that car passed.

A third car pulls up behind SUV Woman in the driveway. By this time, my hands had become sweaty as I gripped the steering wheel.

“No matter what I do now, there’s going to be collateral damage,” I realized.

It wasn’t about me. I’d get home soon enough.

But what about the guy behind me? If I honk, SUV Woman will pull out and stop, delaying his trip. If I pull forward and block her in, the guy behind SUV Woman will be delayed. I didn’t understand how his situation could so quickly spiral out of control.

The light turned green. Panic set in.

She’s still eating the cupcake. That cupcake had become her reality, her entire world.

The traffic moving forward ahead of me caught her attention just as I started moving forward as well. She began to pull out.

We both quickly hit our brakes.

We finally made eye contact. She put down the cupcake. And then she gave me a courtesy wave.

Through diplomacy, the issue had been settled! I would continue on, as would my contemporary driving behind me. SUV Woman and Other Guy would then pull out of the driveway and head in the opposite direction.

We were all a little wiser.

I learned the importance of decisiveness. In this case, the only wrong decision was to make no decision at all. I could have delayed all three of those people by upwards of ten seconds! What if one of them had been going to a shuttle launch?

I could finally relate to what that private investigator was talking about [language warning!] in that one episode of Breaking Bad.

A few days later, I tried to go shopping at that Kroger, but they were out of scallions. I had resolved to take Green Oaks home instead of Brown, but as I left, I gazed upon that intersection and began to reflect.

I whispered to the breeze.

“Most people call them green onions, but they’re really scallions.”