This was this time last week, when I was still fuming over this asshole at work that weekend. (I have to admit that I'm still fuming because I'll run in to this arrogant bastard this weekend.) And that day had an inordinate number of rude and careless drivers on the road.
I was driving for my before-dinner coffee. I had a car in front of me, a very small, obsolete, and beat-up white Hyundai Accent, driving very slowly. It had one of those special license plates, one that didn't have the normal three letters or numbers to the left of the state logo and three letters or numbers to the right. Instead it had five of these characters all bunched in the middle, superimposed on a design which includes a flag that mostly sticks out on the left-hand side. A man who wouldn't splurge for a new car will shell out a little money for a vanity plate for it. OK. ...
I would move to the other lane, but my right turn was just past the intersection. Just then, he abrupty stopped, put on his turn lane, then got out of my way. Normally I'd just scream, "Geez, what an idiot!" But with the past several days I was having, this example of highway incompetence was the last straw. So I honked at him.
I got a red light. Always do at this particular intersection. I try to look at my rearview mirror whenever I honk at someone, so I got a good, steady view of this car immediately stopping, backing up, turning back, and driving up alongside me.
You've got to be fucking kidding me. Not this shit -- not any day, but especially not today. I felt the testosterone coarse through me. I've felt like I've needed to defend my manhood a lot -- every day, practically -- but this truly was the first time in a long time, if not ever, that my fight-or-flight instinct was 100% in the former. I was ready to fight, goddammit! So as this shitty Accent crept up alongside my driver's side, I did the only thing I could do to express how crazily pissed off I was without actually getting out of my car: I immediately stared at him. And I didn't even blink. Not once.
As I surmised, the driver was a young white male, and this one had a buzzcut, just like me. And as soon as I saw him, he stared right back at me. He was spoiling for a fight, too. And I didn't see him blink once either. No matter, at least physically -- I continued to lock eyes with this fucker, trying to burn a hole inbetween his eyes. But at one point, while our Mexican stalemate continued with no break from either party nor a disqualifying intervention by a green light, I thought to myself, Shit, you really got yourself in something now.
But then he turned his head away! I won the staring manhood contest, yay!!! But either I tried to make sure I wasn't fucking around or my emotions got the best of me, I still didn't blink or look away. I re-locked on his eyes when looked at me and looked again, and again. He had a passenger with him, what looked to be a cute-looking girl, also about high school age. She was looking at me, then her friend, then me, then her friend, like our staring contest was a tennis match. And when that guy "lost" yet I still gazed their way, she chuckled and made fun of me, like she was saying, "Look at this asshole!" Damn right I'm an asshole.
But what could I do? When he wasn't looking at me, he seemed to be looking at my lane past the intersection. He was lost, apparently. Well, I don't know if I could stop him from cutting me off, even with an Accent, so on the green light I just stared at them as they started driving while I idled.
They did get on my lane, though without indicating. Either this guy is a prick on the road or he was too scared of me to turn on his blinker; hope it's the latter, probably was the former. Anyway, so this car takes a right where I wanted to take a right. I pass the turn just in case, and sure enough, this shit subcompact takes another turn to the stripmall where the place I wanted to get coffee is. Newman! I gave the image I was crazy, but I don't have the means to back it up, so I had to turn around and go home, without my cup of joe.
Been back there many times since. Haven't seen the car. I don't think he was pulling into the coffeeshop intentionally; I think he was still lost the last time I saw the Accent. Which means only one thing: This guy is a really shitty driver.
No comments:
Post a Comment