The Angry Landlord, the Brick Wall and the Worried Young Woman

A member of my family drove into a brick wall and damaged it. They didn’t mention it because they didn’t believe it was a big deal. You’d think hitting a brick wall with a car would be a big deal, but apparently it was more like hitting a raccoon on the highway: it makes a lot of noise, but it’s a lot worse for the raccoon than it is for your car.

Make no mistake, they knew the wall had been hit. The car lurched but kept going. The working theory was that the brick wall would be fine, and the damage to the car would be figured out later. To their credit, they didn’t panic and make matters worse by driving into traffic, causing a fatality or totaling the car.

It was a decorative wall separating a parking lot from the sidewalk, more like a cement berm. If it was a brick wall attached to a house or a tavern, that’d be another story. The law may have been involved. This wasn’t that big of a deal.

I realize I’m kind of saying: “I stepped on your foot and broke a toe, but at least I didn’t chop your leg off.” But when you step on someone’s toe, they act like the world has ended. That shock of pain changes how they think about things. That person kind of hates you in that moment, and they act as if you chopped off your leg.