When I am standing on the sidewalk in my neighborhood, or when I am in a public parking lot fiddling with my keys or waiting for my husband to pull the car up and retrieve me from the front of a restaurant, I can’t help but notice the cars that drive by and the people inside of them.
The passengers have been reduced to mere faces, faces that I know are attached to bodies sitting strapped in seats. At the mercy of wherever the driver is taking them. But you can only see them from the neck up — just faces being driven around, these disembodied heads.
I think we all look kind of dumb as faces in windows of moving cars. Vroooom, vroooom, ziiiiip, vrooooom. Sometimes when people peel out, the faces jerk back real quick. Snap. It’s hard to look cool, or serious, or like you have your life all figured out, when you sit in someone’s passenger seat.
It’s like fish on display in a fishbowl, but worse.