It’s a beautiful spring morning and Greg decides to walk to his job on Wall Street. He is young, ambitious, and wearing a new suit—the most expensive he’s ever bought. He is going to make an impression today.
As he looks at the new eclectic gadgets displayed in a store window, a silver convertible flashes by, hitting a puddle of water, splashing Greg from head to toe.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts, and when his shout gets no response, raises his middle finger.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts, and the driver of the convertible, hearing the obscenity shouted in their direction, raises their middle finger.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts, and the driver of the convertible, seeing what has happened in their rear-view mirror, pulls over to the curb. They apologize profusely and offer to pay to have the suit cleaned. Learning that Greg is walking to work, they offer to take him home to change and then to his office.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts. Seeing his shout ignored, Greg picks up a rock he sees in the gutter and throws it at the convertible. Throwing accurately for the first time in his life, Greg hits the driver in the back of the head with the rock. As the driver jerks their head in surprise, they don’t see the young boy chase his ball into the street, and they hit the boy without braking. As people run into the street to check the boy's condition, Greg is stricken by panic.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts. Seeing his shout ignored, Greg picks up a rock he sees in the gutter and throws it at the convertible, missing by a mile—as he always had on the ballfields of his youth.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts. Seeing the car stop at the light on the corner, Greg runs toward the car. As the light changes, all he can do is stand there, panting, hands on his knees.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg shouts. Seeing the car stop at the light on the corner, Greg runs toward the car. The driver, seeing a disheveled man shouting with a raised fist approaching their car, reaches into the glove compartment for a gun they keep for safety. As Greg reaches the car, the driver panics and fires—hitting Greg in the chest.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg brushes the water from his pants—as if that will help. He barks “God damn it!” to himself and continues his trek to work. He carries his now bad mood into the office, barking at everyone he encounters. A meeting with a client goes badly and he is called in to talk to his boss. Later that night, he finds himself in a bar, trying to drink off his bad day.
Standing there, first shocked, then angry, humiliated, and dismayed in turn, Greg brushes the water from his pants—as if that will help. He barks “God damn it!” to himself and continues his trek to work. As he walks, he calms himself down, consoling himself with the story that he’s going to tell at the water cooler. He takes the train uptown at lunch to change and get ready for his big meeting with a client.
The universe looks on silently.