The traffic light turned red. The radio played Uptown Funk by Bruno Mars as a young guy pulled alongside and checked himself out in his rearview mirror. He wore a blue striped tie crowned by a perfect Windsor knot and framed by a trendy white collar. He was too busy in his world to notice me. His long, heavy fringe was pushed back over his forehead which left a breakaway strand of hair falling over his perfectly manicured brow. He checked his iPhone and thumbed his screen responding with varying degrees of rapidity and determination. I would say he has a busy social life, you can tell.
His car was bigger than mine and looked fresh out of the showroom. Perhaps he was picking up a client for a test drive? I noticed what looked like a parking notice and a crumpled receipt nestled on the dashboard; that put paid to that idea. He could have been a Rep but would have to hold a senior management position, to drive a car like that. I’m not sure of the make, it could be an Audi or Lexus in pearlised white with subtle red trim. It’s not a Reps’ car on reflection. Very nice, very nice indeed.
Possibly in his mid to late twenties, slim and tanned. He took a pair of sunglasses from his console, put them on with one hand then flicked his fringe back into place. He took his shades off again and proceeded to clean them with a small silk cloth. I hadn’t noticed the sun was setting which caused an unbearable intrusive glare. I searched around for my own and popped them on. I soon realised that I could further scrutinise my neighbour through my scratched and dusty darkened lens’ and guarantee we did not make eye contact.
He was probably on his way from work, a professional role in the city, a banker or maybe a high-flying barrister. He seemed to be peering down below his lens’ and doing something on the dashboard out of my line of view, probably the sat nav, I bet he’s on his way to a secret rendezvous, a tryst with a married co-worker. He wore a wedding ring.
He checked his wristwatch; several times. I checked his wristwatch; several times and concluded that it was probably a smartwatch that sent him constant reminders of how flashy and how perfect his executive lifestyle was. Conditioned like a Pavlovian hound to respond every time it pinged a notification or buzzed with a message; probably a reminder of his Liaison Dangereuse…
I looked further to my left and noticed a smart suit jacket hung neatly against the rear door. Charcoal grey with a fine stripe, it looked expensive and tailored. To my surprise, I saw a young boy strapped into a child’s seat. He was about six or ten, I am hopeless at guessing children’s ages.
The boy was holding a small tablet and truly focused on the task at hand: oblivious to the outside world. I wonder if it is his son or maybe a brother? He was probably a brother or Nephew as the driver didn’t look old enough to have a son that age, whatever age that was.
My thoughts were interrupted by a sensation that made me turn to look to the other side of my car. I saw that a motorcyclist alongside me was checking me out, the cheek of it. Our eyes met, and we nodded at each other. The motorcyclist roared away into the distance, and the smart young man turned left. The lights turned green.
small tales 
Hi Ian, I perfectly remember reading your story, years ago. I liked it a lot this time,too. <true, most of us like to conjecture on other people’s looks, don’t we. Ans true, too, that some traffic lights are awfully slow. I haven’t figured out why you call it ‘amber’. tahe care
Hi Manfred. Amber refers to the traffic light sequence here in the UK but also as a warning that stop (red) is about to happen – Amber has a link with being warned which in this case refers to jumping to conclusions about someone or something. Thanks for reading.
I loved it because, like many others, I do it. Also make judgements on what we assume. Never learn do we. Well done. Most of your small tales give me cause for reflection which is a good thing.