Judge, 1926-10-16 · page 8 of 36
Judge — October 16, 1926 — page 8: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "Mr. Mitchit Blocks Traffic" This is a satirical story about indecision causing public chaos. Mr. Mitchit, standing at a taxi door for twenty minutes unable to decide whether to take a cab (worried about rain ruining his hat or wasting money if it doesn't rain), becomes so absorbed in deliberation that he blocks an entire line of traffic stretching blocks back. When a traffic cop confronts him, Mitchit can't even decide whether to apologize or get chocolate instead. The joke escalates absurdly: mentioning Mitchit's cousin in Davenport, Iowa triggers emotional responses from both the cop and another officer, eventually reducing the cop to tears. The satire targets indecisive people who cause problems through paralysis by analysis—overthinking trivial personal matters while creating massive public inconvenience. It's a gentle mockery of the neurotic, anxious personality type, suggesting that obsessive worry about minor consequences (a wet hat) creates disproportionate real problems.
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Mr. Mitchit Blocks Traffic Rr. Mircuir stood with his hand i on the door of the taxi, en- deavoring to decide whether he should engage a cab or not. If it were going to rain, he would be caught in it and if he were caught in it he would get his old hat wet and then his wife would say, “the same thing would have happened if you had worn your new hat. That’s five dollars thrown awe and be cross for the rest of the night. Still, maybe it wouldn’t rain. And then the money would be wasted. So Mr. Mitchit considered with one hand on the handle of the taxi’s door. After twenty minutes the driver turned his head and spoke to him: “Excuse me, sir,” he said, “but did you notice the girl with the red hair who just went by?” “You've broken my train of thought,” said Mr. Mitchit. “She was very pretty,” said the taxi driver. “I don’t think so,” said Mr. Mitchit. You didn’t see her,” said the taxi driver. “No, but I had a cousin who was a judge in a beauty contest onc “Where?” asked the driver jeal- ously. “Davenport, Toway.” said Mr. Mitchit. “Humph!” snorted the taxi driver “Mr. Mitchit stood with his hand on the door of the taxi.” contemptuously. “Missouri r. more mules in a minute than Iow: does in a month.” Mr. Mitchit debated whether to the taxi driver's face or get a chocolate soda. This gave Mr. Mitchit two matters to consider. An hour went by. Mr. Mitehit had got as far as “M is for Mum- when a traffic cop appeared. “You're blocking _ traffic,” he shouted at Mr. Mitchit. Mr. Mitchit turned. There was a “Man you better travel. Where dere’s dynamite dey hangs a red light— and you will observe a crimson lantern attached to dis wing.” ane line of vehicles as far back as the eye could see. As far back as two could see, really. The policeman, strangely enough, was telling the truth. Astounding, thought Mr Mitchit. And as though divining Mr. Mitchit’s thought, the police- man said: “I promised my mother on her deathbed.” id Mr. Mitchit, add- . “after all it is only the cynic who really suffers.” “What are you going to do about this traffic jam?” asked the cop. “I don't’ know,” replied Mr. Mitchit, piteously. “He has a brother in Davenport, Ioway,” ventured the driver. “Good!” said the cop with the first real enthusiasm he had dis- played, “that makes it eas: “It's only a cousin,” Mitchit. The traffic cop burst into tears and had to be led away. “He had a cousin once,” ex- plained a fellow officer who had just come up from the Battery. said Mr. “She married some one else?” inquired Mr. Mitchit, tenderly. “No,” said the fellow officer, “they were twins.” The jam grew momentarily worse and worse. “All we need now is a subway tie-up,” giggled a girl whose skirts (Continued on page 28) 6 comicbooks.com