K Rock – this is for you!
Friday morning I’m toodling down the road on my way to work. Thankful as I always am when Friday rolls around that the weekend is but 8.5 hours away.
Anyhow, the street I take to work is three lanes across. You with me? Good. Mmkay, at a certain point, this street dead ends into a little strip mall. You either stay in the far right lane and turn right or you stay in the two left lanes and turn left. Easy enough. Anyhoo, I’d been watching this “darter” jump from lane to lane for virtually my entire 15 minute commute. I’m never sure where these folks think they are going – we all end up at the same red light – but whatever. So, about 1 minute before this genius needs to move into one of the left lanes from the far right lane, she turns on her left signal light, indicating that she would like to change lanes. Except. When this chick puts on her signal she obviously means she is going to change lanes – no matter what other vehicle happens to be in the spot of asphalt she wants to be in. I can’t slow down because the yahoo behind me is so close that I can see the freckles on his nose. The car in front of me is not far enough ahead of me for me to speed up. There is NO ONE behind the car behind me. This chick starts coming over. I do a quick crazy look and blow my horn. She looks at me, gives me the gas face, and continues trying to slide over. WTH???? So I’m thinking I can slow down and get hit, speed up and hit the car in front of me or keep laying on the horn and hope chick reconsiders slamming into my car. Which thankfully, she does. She slowed down (genius!) got behind the car behind me and then slid on over to the far left lane. Somewhere in there she manages to flip me the bird. So now, I’m mad. I woo sah, take some deep breaths and wait for the turn light all the while keeping my eyes on little Maria Andretti. Then I notice this chick is turning into the far hospital parking lot. And I follow her.
As she gets out the car, I pull up behind her, give her my craziest angry black woman look and pretty much read her the riot act for her non-driving maneuvering. I never said a cuss word. You know what she says? “I didn’t give you the finger.” Dammit genius, that’s not the point. You almost caused a three or four car pileup because you didn’t have enough sense to slow down and merge into the lane you wanted to be in. A signal just lets other people know where you want to be – it doesn’t mean we are obligated – safety be damned – to come to a screeching halt to let your dumb self in. Have you lost your mind? How stupid and bad would you feel if you caused an accident and hurt – or even worse – killed someone because you were in a hurry to get to the hospital parking lot? You don’t even park in the garage – so it’s not like you’re a doctor who might be able to save someone’s life….blah, blah, blah. Anyhoo, by the time I was finished with my enraged grandmotherly-go-off, she was looking a little distraught and just kept saying yes ma’am, yes ma’am, I’m sorry….blah, blah, blah. I muttered something about calling the authorities, mentioned that I’d taken a picture of her license plate, and rolled out to my parking lot.
Anyhow, that is tale of the driver’s rage I experienced on Friday. I was livid. But not so out of my mind that I forgot to pull off my i.d. badge before I confronted crazy chick. You know, like she wouldn’t be able to identify the almost six foot tall black lady with dreadlocks….
Smoochy was more upset with me than I was with her. My bad. But not.