Restaurant Stop

Have you ever noticed how leaving a restaurant and leaving a stop sign bring about the same strange momentary lapse and indecisiveness?

Even though where I live four ways stops are as common as the squashed bug guts smeared on the windshield on the first day of spring, no one EVER follows the appropriate rules of the road. We, as citizens and drivers in the United States of America, understand “red light--green light”, turning lanes with “turn left on arrow only,” and most certainly the looming DO NOT ENTER warnings; however, when it comes to four-way stop signs all the things learned in driver’s education are spit out the window with your stale gum.

“A four-way stop sign means that there are four stop signs at this intersection. Traffic from all four directions must stop. The first vehicle to reach the intersection should move forward first. If two vehicles reach the intersection at the same time, the driver on the left yields to the driver on the right” (Rules of the Road).

You pull up to the four-way stop. All cars have stopped at about the same nano-second as you did. Unless there is an “aggressive” driver who goes first no matter which order she arrived at the stop sign in (usually me), the following dilemma ensues:

You hesitate, take your foot off the brake, at the same time the other drivers consecutively lift their foot off their brakes. So, no one wanting to make the first move, you all sit in what seems like the most uncomfortable three schizophrenic-seconds of your life, thinking “should I go, should I not go, should I go…” until the guy across from you waves you on and you begin slowly, cautiously proceeding into the intersection (unless you’re my husband, in which case, you wave on another driver, when he doesn’t go quick enough, you then go yourself instead, but call him the “idiot” after he begins to go after you are already half-way through the intersection and he almost hits you). When you make it through the intersection and breathe a sigh of relief, you carry and forget you wanted prescription for panic attacks…until you pull up to the next four-way stop.


The same thing happens at a restaurant when dining out with girlfriends. You’ve finished your meal, the waitress has cleared away the dishes and cashed out the check, the chit chat has relinquished to less important meanderings to fill up the silence, and someone (usually me) inconspicuously glances at their watch. You’re not sure if your friend intends on finishing the ½ cup of cold coffee, you’re not sure if you need to wait a few more minutes because the friend who really needed encouragement just isn’t able to ask for it yet, and you’re not convinced you really want to go back home to the chaos and kids. You all think the same thing “should I get up, should I remain seated, should I get up…”

Until one person boldly says (usually me), “Are we ready?” Everyone nods, starts putting on their coats, and grappling through their purses for their keys.