Tom had just a few minutes to get some lunch in between conference calls.
His job is very close to a McDonald’s, which works out great most of the time. He just goes through the drive-thru, orders, and can get back to his desk in just a few minutes. It’s a very quick trip.
But it wasn’t yesterday.
Tom told me that when he pulled in, there was only one car in front of him. They took a while ordering and finally pulled up to pay. Tom ordered and drove up and waited to pay, too.
It usually only took a few seconds to pay, but the guy in the car in front of him was taking forever. Not only were they slow when ordering, now they were slow paying. Tom started to get angry.
He tried not to think about it. He fiddled with his phone but then started to think about being late.
The person in the car in front of him paying (or apparently not paying) was, in Tom’s mind, starting to become an idiot. What’s wrong with him? How hard is it to pay for food? Is this his first time in a drive-thru? Has he never been to a McDonald’s before? Does he not know how this thing works?
Tom rolled down his window. He thought about saying something but didn’t know what to say.
He decided that he would blow his horn. He put two hands in the middle of his steering wheel and slowly began applying pressure, hoping he wouldn’t have to express his frustration in such an obvious way but knowing he had to do something or he might be here all day. Just before he could press hard enough for it to sound, the car started moving, got their food, and drove off.
Tom was disgusted. What a jerk, he thought and pulled up to the first window to pay, ready to unload on the employee and ask what that idiot’s problem was for almost making him late to work.
His car window was still rolled down and he stopped to talk with the lady at the first window who spoke first. “I’m so sorry for the delay. The gentleman in the car in front of you wanted to pay for your lunch. I’m new and it took me a while to process everything. Have a blessed day,” she said.
That’s where Tom’s story ended.
He stopped talking and looked at me. I cringed and he told me that he had the same reaction. To think that he almost blew his horn at a guy that was just trying to pay for his meal. And he almost unloaded on this poor lady new to her job who just needed a little more time to process everything.
That’s the danger in believing the stories that we tell ourselves.
It feels good to fill in the gaps when we don’t know the whole story. It’s natural for us to make sense of the world around us by creating our own stories. But what we assume is happening usually isn’t the truth. A loved one gives us a stern look so we tell ourselves a story that we must have done something wrong when really they were just having a bad day. Or we text a friend who doesn’t reply quick enough and we create a story to explain why they never got back to us.
We do it all the time and vilify others instead of giving them the benefit of the doubt.
The next time I’m in a McDonald’s drive-thru and I’m stuck behind a “jerk” who’s taking a little bit longer than I’d like, I think I’ll tell myself a different story instead and try to be a little more patient.