The other morning, I was accidental cool.
I pulled onto the Bay Bridge just as the sun rose over Oakland. I sipped at my coffee and tried to enjoy the early morning sun. Within moments, the glare hit me and I did what I thought was the logical thing: I put on my sunglasses.
It turned out that the break in weather was short lived. I emerged from the tunnel on Treasure Island and the sun had dipped behind a thick layer of fog. Automatic headlights switched on, wipers tore across windshields. Ratings on the Weather Channel skyrocketed. The rain hit me like the volume of an infomercial. In other words, it was nasty out.
The steering wheel of my 2002 hybrid gripped my hands and, with all the electricity and combustion we could muster, we forged across the rest of the bridge. In almost complete darkness, we both welcomed the taillights when we reached the other side.
A lady in a Landrover pulled next to me. We made eye-contact through her tinted window. I wanted to mime, That was crazy, right?
She shook her head. She shook it again.
Through the entire weather-related ordeal, I had forgotten to take off my sunglasses. I tipped my shades up onto my head and tried to say, Forgot I had them on, Not trying to be cool.
Her look said it all: It’s like a monsoon out here in almost complete darkness and you have your sunglasses on. And now you are trying to chat me up on the highway. Really dude? Typical…
Yea, really. But I was accidental cool – the too-cool-for-school variety, I admit it.
I’ll remember that morning next time I start to judge the sunglasses-on-in-the-night-club guy. It happens, I know that now.