The subway pulled in, and through the doors, a man holding a guitar could be seen.

Tonight’s transportation was accompanied by a serenade.

As the music played, well wishes for the traveler’s evening were tossed like confetti.

In the background, a shout could be heard.

She was demanding her share of the airwaves.

Two performers stood at a crossroad.

He paused, “You say what you need to say.”

She walked through the car revealing her position, laying out her request.

As the subway pulled into its next stop, he addressed her. “You didn’t have to kill my groove like that. I could have confronted you but I didn’t, which shows my heart. I’m trying to spread pleasantries.”

But to the observer, what had they seen?

A man who respectfully paused.

A man who was trying to emphasize why he made the pause. Not primarily because he thought it was the right thing to do, but because he wanted the people around him to think of him as good because he did what they held as the right thing to do.

He had tipped his hand too far.

Revealing what humanity mutually agrees to hold close to our chest.