Road Rage

“Move out of the way you dumb son of a b**ch!”

I am the guy you are screaming and hurling insults at, insinuating my precious momma is a b**ch. I am not in a hurry. I very rarely speed and you are pissed because you are late and impatient and I have a sports car and in your mind I should “Step on the gas you f’ing idiot!” My days are laid out meticulously, a robotic morning routine so I am never late, so I am never in a rush, but in your mind you are convinced “I have no G*d D*mn place to go!”

I stay in my lane, never the fast lane, that is for passing only. I am minding my business, listening to my audible book, driving the speed limit, maybe a few mph less, but not by much. I am keeping up with the flow of traffic in my chosen lane. I see you in my mirror. Your face crimson with rage. I can make out the expletive filled adjectives you are using to describe me. You seem to loath me even though you don’t know me but have determined I am a “Stupid A**hole, piece of sh*t” just by the way I drive. I am certain if this was the supermarket and I was walking in the aisle this slow you’d spike my heals with your cart and kick me in my Lucky Charms.

You find the opening you’ve been looking for. Like a well trained NASCAR driver you make your move and switch lanes. I watch you in my mirror as you aggressively tailgate a new car urging the driver to also “Move! You dumb son of b**th!!” This vehicle now the only obstacle between you and your quest to show me just how angry…NO, how incensed you are with me.

I can now alternate my field of vision to see you and the other driver. They too are staring at you from their rear view mirror. Mistaken that your face, a mask of fury is intended for them unknowing your pending wrath is for me. They nervously pump on their breaks in hopes the red alerts will deter you from your bumper hugging. They have made a grave error as you retaliate “Holy Sh*t, get the f**k out of my way!!” accompanied by a long blaring honk of your horn.

Intimidation a success. This hindrance blocking you from your vengeance against me and your lack of time management skills is all but removed. They now have an opening and can speed up. I see the driver as they pass me glancing at the road in front of them and the terror behind which is you. I can see their flush cheeks and mouthing what looks like the Hail Mary or perhaps they are singing car karaoke, I don’t know. My mind whirling as you approach.

I move only my eyes to see you. I can make out the anger lines on your jaw, the veins protruding from your temple caused by your outrage. You are now next to me, you threaten to swerve ever so slightly in my lane, barely moving the steering wheel, hardly noticeable. You yell what I am certain are more expletives at me through your closed window. You follow up with your final knockout blow, the middle finger, a gesture to ensure should our paths ever cross again I will be met with the same fate! I ignore you and continue to listen to my audible book. See you tomorrow fella, same place, same time.