I understand your frustration - after all, it was just after 9am, the tail end of the morning rush hour and the 710 North was packed, bumper to bumper, all four lanes chugging along, stopping and starting as we waited for the street sweeper (at rush hour!) to plod along. And here you were in your truck with a towering, teetering load of smelly old mattresses stretching about 15 feet high that just
had to be somewhere by 10 am.
I could see you in my rear view mirror, shouting like a fucking mental patient, waving your right arm violently as we stopped and started, stopped and started. I watched as you got closer and closer to my rear bumper, apparently in the belief that I had some sort of secret ability to remove all the traffic ahead of me like a God, or perhaps phase us both thru it, like I was the Vision from the Avengers.
Alas, I do not have those abilities.
So when you intentionally RAMMED my rear bumper in your impotent anger and your load of mattresses began swaying to and fro, you can understand why I calmly put my car into park, put on my hazard lights and got out to discuss the matter with you.
What
I don't understand is why you quickly rolled up your window and stared straight ahead when I approached? Where did all this righteous anger disappear to? I simply wanted to discuss your impatience and its effect on my poor plastic bumper. Did I frighten you? If so, I sincerely apologize. I realize when you're being a fucking dick and you
just happen to accidentally ram into someone's back end because traffic isn't going your way, sometimes you need to act out like a 12-year old, even if you happen to be in your late fifties. Did you soil your pants when the scary bald bodybuilder got out in the middle of stop and go traffic and slowly stalked to your truck window? That must have been terrifying.
Just take a breath and count your blessings. I'm 38, much calmer and pretty damn zen these days. Imagine if you had done this to me 10 years ago! Oh my. You would so be toothless and in the ER right now and I'd be in jail.
Isn't maturity so much nicer? I thought so.
