Commute

It was Thursday. I was driving home from work. Almost home. Definitely in the desert. Definitely feeling like I do every time I approach that lake. I had a cigarette in one hand, my phone in the other. I was trying to change the song on the stereo with my mind. I was probably speeding. I looked to my right. Some boy, I guess a man really, my age or older. Are boys my age considered men? In some cases, I guess. In most cases, I'm doubtful. He was wearing some uniform. Or at least that's what I gathered from the patch on his shirt sleeve. I imagined the patch had something to do with the medical field. I imagine a lot of things when I'm on the 14. We looked at each other. I'm going to say he looked at me. I think I was just trying to merge. He waved. I waved back. I didn't recognize him. He might have been attractive. He had an arm full of tattoos. I should know him right? We should all know each other. 

I keep thinking about it. 

I feel like I missed something. 

Why did I wave back?