One thing my mom was a master at was something my brother-in-law Rick called the “Hairy Eyeball.” If you did or said something stupid, mom would roll her huge dark Italian-Portuguese eyeballs in your direction and give you a special glare. Her look told you in no uncertain terms and with not one word spoken that what you just did was truly “special,” and not in a positive way!
I like to think I’m starting to get better at my own version of the Hairy Eyeball. It has not been perfected yet, but perhaps by my next big birthday, I’ll have improved. I am certainly getting enough practice.
I’ve mentioned before that I jog/run/walk three or four times a week. I have a four mile loop that I favor, but regardless of my route, there are hills and curves. When going around a curve, I run all the way on the edge of the shoulder, keeping an eye and ear out for vehicles. The minute I see one, I look just to make sure they are actually on the road where they belong, and quite often lately, they are not. The drivers come around the corner on the shoulder of the road, heading right for me. Sometimes they seem to be pretending they are on a racetrack, speeding around dangerously, and sometimes they are distracted with other activities. But as soon as they see me, they pull back onto the road, and that’s when I do it. I roll my eyes towards the dashboard window and glare right at the spot where the driver is. I don’t expect it to make a difference at that moment, but the next time they come down that road or fly around that corner, I want them to remember my look, and I want them to slow down and drive properly.
It’s dangerous out there, and sometimes there is only one weapon at my disposal. The Hairy Eyeball. So shoulder-huggers, beware. It’s out there looking for you.