Gropius Meets Psycopath

I've been listening to a series on NPR this week about the brain of a psychopath. It's only natural that it would end with an experiential look at the subject today.

I should have known something was off kilter from the start this morning. I was working from home until a 10 a.m. appointment at a local tv station. I reached into my purse to get out some cash for D-Man's camp carnival and my wallet wasn't there.  Thankfully, I was able to call work to find out I had left it on my desk.

When I got in the car a few minutes late to get to the appointment, I remembered my thinking and planning from last night: "I really need gas but I don't feel like getting it now. I'll just leave for my meeting early in the morning to get it."

The only problem was I was running late. And oh. I didn't have any money. Husband was long gone for work. Wallet was at work. That's right.

So I managed to make it to the tv station, but as I was approaching it, something not good happened.

There was a guy in a car behind me who evidently thought I was going straight, not turning right. He was pulling one of those deals where he sped up to make a right turn in a non-existent side lane. Therefore, when he turned right, I was turning right...right on top of him. We came within inches of a collision. Both of us stopped and then I proceeded into the parking lot.

Looking behind me in my review mirror, I could see him following me. Psychopath pulled in beside me in a parking space and rolled down the window of his ratty car. He was wearing a wife beater tank top and looked like a pro wrestler about 10 years after his prime.

Psychopath then proceeded to start shouting "You BITCH" at me in a very frightening psychotic manner. I just looked at him, flashed the nicest smile I could muster and slowly, deliberately said "I hope you have a wonderful day."  He had no idea what to do with that. I think he had planned on me either crying, yelling back or apologizing? Whatever he expected, he didn't get it. He left.

Boss was meeting me at the station, I borrowed twenty bucks to get me gas until I could get to the office and reclaim my long lost wallet. Phew!

So this week I learned that geneticists have evidently discovered some sort of "angry" gene that predisposes people to violence. That gene, along with child abuse in the early years, "makes" a person 400 times more likely to commit a violent crime as an adult. Although I find that interesting, I also find a little thing called "not threatening people" and "controlling one's emotions" interesting too. No doubt the Psychopath from this morning possesses the gene, but if he had in fact decided to take me out of this life today, I hope that gene wouldn't be used to defend him in a murder trial.

We can use genetics, our background, harsh life experiences and chemical imbalances to help understand people but at some point, personal choice and responsibility play a role. It makes me jittery knowing this guy is driving around my town. I hope I never see him again. I hope he doesn't have a wife or kids...I can only imagine what they must experience if he does.

And finally, I'm grateful for being looked after so we didn't collide. Thank God. And may God work with us to guard just exactly how we use genetics in this modern day.