I saw this couple in traffic fight this morning. Guy looked mid thirties. Chick didn’t look a day older than 25, but it’s hard to tell nowadays with make-up and Botox. Traffic was stagnant as you would expect at 8am. They were in a nice red Subaru Outback (that’s how I noticed em in the first place). It’s been raining like mad, and so most cars in traffic are somewhat dirty, but this Subaru was spitshine-clean which could mean either two things; they are married, and they have a live-in maid who wakes up early in the morning to clean the car. Or it could mean they are just dating and living together (or chick spent over) and he’s one of those guys who wake up early in the morning to clean their cars. It’s hard to certify people’s status in traffic.
But they were fighting. Bitterly.
When most couples fight in traffic it’s always the silent one. The one where the woman turns to the man and says something totally acerbic and curt then turn and look away. Or where the man stares at the woman long and hard and then mumbles something sarcastic but very hurtful. But these couple was really going for the jugular. Or rather the chick was.
The car had no tint, but the windows were all rolled up, that means it was like watching a Mexican soap on mute. She was very agitated; I could tell her voice was raised because her mouth opened wide every time she spoke. Veins popped from her neck. Her jaws were drawn tight and her eyes looked murderous. She spoke in the guys face, and she wanted to stress something she wagged a finger in his face.
But here is how the man fought her; by not fighting her. He stared ahead, hands on the wheel. If the chick asked something (I could tell because it’s the only time her mouth stopped moving and she stared at him expectantly) he would say something brief, all while he continued staring ahead – at the back of a dirty lorry carrying goods from Kinangop of some place like that. She only took a brief break from the tirade to flip open a make-up thingi and powder her nose. He seemed to be accustomed to the chick’s anger because he seemed too calm about it, almost sympathetic and accommodating towards her. They chick didn’t seem to draw him out. He seemed like had stepped out of the car and left an effigy of himself there to face her vitriol. He seemed like he didn’t care anymore how hard she shouted or even if she poked his eye with her nails, which by the way, seemed very well manicured; long and strong. The type of nails that can remove your esophagus.
But perhaps that’s how they fought, I figured. Perhaps that was normal to them, all that angst and shouting and nails and make-up kit. Maybe if they watched another couple fight by talking silently, they would be shocked at their lack of passion. or maybe that’s how he started his day on most days by getting an earful. Or maybe he had reached the end of the tether with her and didn’t care anymore what she said or how she said it.
I wondered what the man did so early in the morning to warrant that venom. Maybe he had rocked up home at 5am, but that’s unlikely because he didn’t look hangied. He looked crisp and daisy in his white shirt and yellow tie. Or maybe while they dressed that morning she had asked him if she looked fat (she didn’t look fat, but women will ask you such questions any way) and he had said the wrong thing. Hell there is no right answer to that fat question. Or maybe she was mad because a woman called him early in the morning. Yeah, that can get a woman going all right. Or maybe it was a spillover fight from the previous night, yes, women can really drag you in the mud for days on end if they put their minds to it. Either way he had done something wrong and his ass was in the doghouse. I loved his car, I really did, but I was so glad I wasn’t seated in it.