Racing Stripes

Ben, my director, has nicknamed me Racing Stripes. This could be interpreted in many ways,- none of them flattering, but he gave it to me because of a mysterious, large, yellow, stripe that just “appeared” on the side of my truck. Now I can’t tell you how it got there, but I can tell you it’s the exact shade of yellow that is also on my landlord’s house.
Oops.
I thought perhaps no one would notice, and after several days no one had mentioned it. Even though it stood out like a beacon to my eyes perhaps it was only because I knew it was there. Well it turns out everyone had noticed it; they were just too polite to say anything while I was still learning to drive.
I quickly rectified the problem with basin of water, a cloth and a butter knife. No more racing stripe.
BUT THEN…!
Yesterday on my driver side I noticed a small reddish-brown streak right above my tire; - you know the part of the body that kinda sticks out over the wheel. “Is that mud?” I thought as I scratched it with my finger nail.
Nope. A scratch!
I DIDN’T DO IT!
I mean, I knew when I hit the hou-, errr…I mean…um…when that yellow stripe magically appeared on my passenger side. But this stripe had nothing to do with me!
And even though it’s only a few inches long, as opposed to a few feet, it made me mad that someone or something hit my car!
But then I had to ask myself. Why is it “not a big deal”, even excused and justified when we do something, (no matter how big the yellow stripe) but when someone does the same thing to us, (no matter how small) we get all upset? It’s a huge offence!
Oh I’m sure there’s a whole sermon in there. :0)