Road Rage

So I’m driving home after rehearsal ended last night. It had been a long, hard day, but the show was running well and I was happy.

As I’m getting on the freeway at Bristol, this guy behind me in a minivan decides that there’s no way in hell he’s gonna let two lanes merge on that onramp unless he’s in front, so he forces his way by, almost driving me into a concrete wall along the way. Naturally, I do what any sane person would–I honk at him.

No obscene gestures, no threatening moves, no four letter words. Just a horn. I forget all about it in 10 seconds.

Until he appears behind me, of course, tailgaiting and flashing his high beams. Still, I remain calm. We’ve all heard the stories about “road rage” and the awful accidents these idiots cause. So I just ignore the guy. But no, that’s not enough for him. He pulls up along side me and rolls down his window and starts yelling at me. Still, I ignore him.

Then he gets a great idea. “I’ll force him off the road altogether”. So the reeeeealy cool guy in the white Chevy minivan, license number 1VVV160, who has now been reported to the police, who is my hero because he’s just the hottest thing on wheels and yes, he does own the goddamn road, starts swerving toward me, then away. Did he hit my car? No.

I hope he was having a good time, because yesterday he didn’t kill anyone. I stress the yesterday part, because there is always tomorrow. And there’s only one thing certain about tomorrow: he’ll still be an idiot.

Ahhhhh, it feels so good to vent.


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