Road Rage
I had an interesting time on the way into work this morning. I was passing a line of cars that were going slowly in the left lane. I came around a bend, and I figured out why. There was a semi in the right lane, and a car passing the semi. However, the car was passing the semi very, very, very slowly. I decided that the left lane (going slightly faster than the right lane) was the place to be. A gap in the cars opened up as a red Chevy Avalanche made up to be a Cadillac slowed down. I signaled, checked my blind spot, and merged left.
I must have really upset Mr. Cadillac. Next thing I know, he was on my tail, flashing his brights, and honking his (rather pathetic sounding) horn. I guess the three car lengths that I had open between my rear bumper and his front bumper just weren’t enough. The guy continues to tailgate me as we pass the semi, and I decide, “Fuck this guy.” I know it was an asshole thing to do, but I slowed down just before passing the semi, and I made the guy wait there about two minutes. Then I realized that I was holding up more traffic than just Mr. Cadillac, so I sped up to the speed limit.
Mr. Cadillac got in the right lane after passing the semi, and pulled up next to me. I have tinted windows. He had tinted windows. I couldn’t see him, but I was certain that he was making rude gestures at me. He surged past me a few times, but never changed lanes because we always hit slower traffic right about the point that he tried to pass me. We finally hit an open stretch of roadway, and he passed me. As soon as he was past me, he cut me off and slammed on his brakes. What the moron didn’t realize is that his big truck-like vehicle can’t keep up with my sports car. I changed lanes to get around him, down-shifted, and floored it. He was a little red car in my rear view mirror before long.
I finally slowed down to the speed limit, and I figured that the gap that I put between us would be plenty to keep the guy away from me until we reached our exit off of the Interstate. I was wrong. The guy had a point to prove. Mr. Cadillac sped past me right as we entered a construction zone, and sped off into the traffic. I didn’t care. I was actually kind of hoping that he would get pulled over for being an idiot.
A mile or two down the road, I saw the flashing lights of a police officer pulling someone over, but it wasn’t Mr. Cadillac. He managed to squeak through the construction zone unscathed. I didn’t see him exit the Interstate, but I was glad to be rid of him. What a tweak.
