Let me preface by saying if not for my superior insanity, I might not be here to share my tale from the commute.
Here’s the thing: I don’t care if you shoot heroin or drive 200mph. I do care if you do it with babies around and it’s important to bear in mind my Super-Charged Maternal Instinct. Everybody’s my baby, including you.
To put it briefly, which I’m normally incapable of doing: I cannot abide a bully or somebody who puts others at risk of injury or death.
Did I tell you about the time I physically attacked a pimp who was almost finished beating his hooker to death? I didn’t save her, it didn’t make a difference but I did it with at least 40 people in the same morning commute train car and I was the only one to try to help. I was 17 years old. I’m that kind of crazy.
Where was I?
I have a special hatred for tailgaters. I drive a minimum of 2 hours a day, across 3 counties. I see a lot of humanity on the roads and there are too many tailgaters. A friend says there’s one trick to driving:
Stay away from everything.
Quite right. If you keep the hell away from everything, you’ll never have an accident. He has driven for 35 years, including 15 years as a delivery man — driving! Point being: he has driven more than most with no accidents–by staying the hell back away from people. One trick. Done.
-are the new readers gone yet?
Back to my story. There’s an Asshole tailgating Everybody. Recall, I drive a long damned way. TailgateTailgateTailgateTailgateTailgateTailgateTailgateTailgateTailgate
I’m staying Well The Hell Back for when Anything Occurs that means another 5 or more car pile up. I see it all the time.
It has been MILES of this. You’d think he’d realise it’s getting him NOWHERE and is risking everybody around him. I do not care if he dies, he will one day anyway, but my pressure-cooker Mammy Sense is building. I lean forward (though I’m easily 4 car-lengths back, farther than normal cos I’m expecting a pile up) and slowly and clearly enunciate to him (from behind), ‘You…Are…An…Asshole.’
He falls back about 2 car lengths, to my surprise. I don’t mind that he saw me, I wanted him to see me, that’s why I made myself clear. But when he responded, I remembered. ‘Oh, yeah. Now I have to bare fist fight the Asshole. Shit.’
I continued driving per norm. He got in the other lane and matches my speed — can you follow this? This is the move so that we’ll be side to side. I don’t want to fight him, mind you, but he is an Asshole and Somebody Has To Do It. I continue driving normally and it takes about 2 minutes for the natural flow of traffic to set me next to him. In the corner of my eye, I can see his full-moon face. We’re window to window, driving 60mph.
I turn my head to full-moon, face to face and wait, ready to bring it.
He just keeps glaring, which is odd because usually an Asshole is screaming and waving and pulling a gun, whatever. Like I haven’t had guns and knives pulled on my standing next to people, let alone both of us in cars.
I clearly say, ‘WHAT?’
His face drops and he mouths, ‘Nothing’ and leaves me and everybody else the hell alone the entire rest of the way to Fenton.
What we had here was a Bully-Asshole and why my crazy arse does it. Bullies will stand down because they’ll be as Bad as possible til a Angry Little Woman -Mama-san! tells them they’re misbehaving.