Car ride idiot
I do not live on a busy street, so usually I am able to back my car out without having to wait long or accommodate active drivers. I check the sidewalk in both directions (damned Raz'r scooters), check the traffic, and bop out. I've never had an incident. Until today, that is.
There I was, 360-degree window sight and mirrors clear, bopping quickly out into the street before shifting fluidly into first gear and getting on my way. What do I spy out of the corner of my rear-view mirror as I finish my entry to the roadway, but a large truck advancing. No big deal, I think. He'll slow.
I shifted into first and applied the accelerator, when what do I see but the big truck trying to pass me in the other lane! He's honking at me! It's some weird type of 80s "dually" American truck, with an extended cab and the small orange lights across the front of the roof!
I was furious. How dare this asshole disregard my vehicle—my life—like that.
At the stop light, the truck and I were parked next to each other — he turning right and I turning left. It took a moment of thought, but I finally looked over: there he was, cheap gold watch, blue tank top, gold necklace, mustache...and once he saw that I was looking, he flipped me off.
Yes, he looked at me with a serious face and flipped me off. I did the smartest thing you can do in those circumstances, which is to hold up a map, slap it repeatedly while looking at the aggressor, and then point back at the aggressor, as though you were blaming them for the map. It's one of the best ways to make sure they make no connection between the incident and the driveway you just left.
There I was, 360-degree window sight and mirrors clear, bopping quickly out into the street before shifting fluidly into first gear and getting on my way. What do I spy out of the corner of my rear-view mirror as I finish my entry to the roadway, but a large truck advancing. No big deal, I think. He'll slow.
I shifted into first and applied the accelerator, when what do I see but the big truck trying to pass me in the other lane! He's honking at me! It's some weird type of 80s "dually" American truck, with an extended cab and the small orange lights across the front of the roof!
I was furious. How dare this asshole disregard my vehicle—my life—like that.
At the stop light, the truck and I were parked next to each other — he turning right and I turning left. It took a moment of thought, but I finally looked over: there he was, cheap gold watch, blue tank top, gold necklace, mustache...and once he saw that I was looking, he flipped me off.
Yes, he looked at me with a serious face and flipped me off. I did the smartest thing you can do in those circumstances, which is to hold up a map, slap it repeatedly while looking at the aggressor, and then point back at the aggressor, as though you were blaming them for the map. It's one of the best ways to make sure they make no connection between the incident and the driveway you just left.
