A gun at my window was a man at my door

How-dee folks!

Yikes! It’s been an age since I last wrote on the Llama!

It’s been a real tough 4 weeks at work with levels of frustration touching the exosphere! To give you an indiction of just how bad it gets, my assistant was hospitalized for severe depression brought on by stress. Sure, it’s not all about the work but it does break down ones resolve to deal with other issues in life.

Why am I babbling on about this…?

Well, I left work on Friday at about 21h30. The exit off the highway that I take to get home ends at a stop street, which at that hour is covered in total darkness as there are no street lights and no houses around. I looked right, I looked left… WHAM!!! I looked right again and saw the handle of a gun banging ferociously on my window! The light inside my car went on… I remember wondering in the flash of a nano-second why it did that…and then I clicked, the guy was opening my door.

Now since I was not in the best of moods and since I’d had enough of been pushed around by rebellious software and a ridiculously unstable IT infrastructure, all I could think was, “Who the hell does this bloke think he is!? ” and, “Does he really think he can just TAKE my car after going about it in such a bloody rude manner!?”

A split second was enough to consider my options:

1. I want to get new car and the insurance payout will probably be more than what I can get for my car if I was to sell it.
2. But my laptop, wallet and cellphone are in the car and even if I ask nicely, I damned sure he won’t let me take them.
3. Oh hang on!! My climbing gear is in the boot!

Having clearly come to my decision, I closed my door and floored the fast peddle.

Stupid? Well, I guess that’s the point of me posting this story.

Assesments. Choices. Decisions. This is a messed up world and most times there are no guarantees that the decisions we make will be to our benefit. There’s a recent article in a magazine called “Awake” that discusses carjacking. It was written by a South African. It holds an account of a woman who stopped at an intersection in Johannesburg on her way to work at 7am. Her window was open and a man put a gun to her neck and said, “Get out or I’ll shoot!” Just then a traffic helicopter flew overhead. The man thought it was a police chopper. He pulled the trigger. The bullet severed her spinal column. She is now paralysed from the neck down. She didn’t even have time to make a decision. It was made for her by the world she lives in.

Did I really base my decision on the climbing equipment? Well, let’s think about it. What does it represent? I work hard to earn money and the gear costs money. It’s taken over a year to build up the rack and there are memories attached to each item. In addition, a friend of mine’s equipment was in my boot as well. Is a carjacker going to care? No!

Did I base my decision on the laptop? It belongs to my company but it’s how I do my work. Although I’m not altogether charmed with the work I do, it defines a part of who I am. If I loose the laptop, it’ll take a long time to recover the information and configurations on it. There is also tons and tons of personal information on it. Is a carjacker going to care? No!

Did I carelessly drive away because I thought these things are so important? It’s hard to describe how the brain works in these situations. As I drove away I was just amazed at how much thinking I’d done in a matter of seconds. Even so, there’s no time to argue the choices. You pick one and you commit and you implement. We are human and we sentient. The decisions we make are based on a complex network of emotion and reason.

What did I base my decision on? I’ve been thinking about it a lot because the consequences could have meant that I’d not be around to write this story. .

Somehow, in that short period of time, all these elements affected my decision. Most of all, the man was indecisive, nervous, fumbling with the gun and my door. He was looking around for other cars that might be taking the offramp. As he looked down the road, that’s when I decided.

Was it a stupid decision? It’s so sad that I even have to think about that question…