Driving into work this afternoon, on State Street in New Haven, I followed a car with two men in the front seat. As they approached the FBI building, the passenger threw a wad of something out the right side window. A few seconds later he threw out a crumpled cigarette pack.
Looking back, it would seem the first toss was the cellophane wrapping from a fresh pack being opened. I remember that act from my days as a smoker (which ended almost 20 years ago).
New Haven will survive a few careless tosses – but I was livid. I mean I was really steaming. Were it not for my fear of gratuitous gunfire (aimed my way), I would have pulled my car alongside and given them a piece of my mind.
They were violating the city. It was a totally selfish act of disregard. I suppose it’s a good thing that this kind of move is so unusual that it affected me strongly.
The last time I can remember being this upset over disregard for the property of others was a few years ago, when someone wrote something inside a stall in the men’s room at work. Again, the ‘real’ effect was minor. But, I felt violated.
It is doubtful the person who threw the trash is reading this. But, even if he was, he made his choice early on. Throwing garbage out the window wasn’t a big deal to him. That is the tragedy in this story.