Sometimes I just need to
blow my flipping stack.
I’m driving along with my
youngest (who’s an adult) riding shotgun when we come upon an airport limo
doing twelve miles an hour and constantly hitting the brakes. After about thirty seconds of this bullshit,
I say to my kid, “Should I honk?”
I seriously expect him to
talk me out of this silliness. Instead,
he smiles and says, “Sure!”
So, I honk.
Man, does this piss off
the limo driver. Big time. He pulls over, waits for me to pass, then
slams open his front door, almost hitting my car.
Man, does this piss ME
off. When he immediately swerves back
out and rides my bumper, I slam on my brakes.
Fuck you, prick.
We get to a traffic light,
a major one, within spitting distance of the police station, with Limo Dick
riding my ass. He pulls so close to me,
I might be able to put a piece of paper between the vehicles … maybe.
I turn to my kid and shake
my head. Oh shit. He knows what’s coming. Mama opens her door, still dressed in work
clothes and jewelry, and stretches one leg out into the street. Again, I seriously expect him to talk me out
of this silliness. Instead, he
smiles.
Within a millisecond, I am
out of the car. I stand at the tiny
division between the two vehicles. “Back
up,” I yell at the limo. “Back up!”
Suddenly, the limo door
opens, and a teeny, scrawny guy jumps out.
He is covered in expensive-looking chains and acts as if he is Macho
Man. “What! I not close!
There be room!”
Oh. Dude. I
have had a very long week already. Don’t
push me.
I lift my right arm to a
ninety degree angle and point my index finger at him. “Back up,” I repeat. Then, through clenched teeth, my eyes wild (I
can feel them inside my head), I yell, “Back the fuck up!”
He starts jawing at
me. “Fuck you,” he says casually.
Truly? Fuck
ME? I can feel the top of my head blowing off. “FUCK YOU.
FUCK YOU. BACK THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKER. BACK … THE … FUCK … UP!!!!!”
At this point, my son
opens his door and stands up. At 6’1”,
he is easily a foot taller than Mini Man.
“Who da fuck ah you?” he asks my son.
My son calmly motions for
Short Shit to get back into his car. “Shut
up,” my son scoffs at him. My kid is a
former judo player with an impressive resume. I know enough judo to leave some bruises and
maybe even choke Demi-Dick out, if necessary. If this driver has half a brain, he’ll stay
where he is and not engage. If he has an
entire brain, he’ll get back in his luxury taxi and get the hell out of Dodge.
It doesn’t matter what he
says. It doesn’t matter what anyone
says. This prick tried to hit my car with
his door and with his vehicle. My kid is
in my car.
I am out of control.
“GET THE FUCK IN YOUR
CAR. BACK THE FUCK UP. BACK THE FUCK UP! BACK THE FUCK UP!!!!!”
At this point the light
turns green. We have traffic watching us
from all five corners of this bizarre intersection. We are the main attraction on the hill stop
of Main Street at rush hour.
A man coming the other way
pulls next to us. His window is up, and
he clearly has himself locked into his Mercedes. “Do you need help?” he mouths through his
safety glass. My luck: My would-be
savior is too chicken to really get involved, but I appreciate the gesture.
I start laughing and give
him the thumbs-up sign. “I’m good,” I
grin. My son and I get back in my car
and drive away.
Prick Dude passes us on
the left, allowing us to get his company name, car number, and license plate,
should we decide to complain to his boss.
My son believes that if we get him fired, we’ll end up paying for him on
the Welfare system when he’s out of a job.
Truth. I raised remarkably logical children.
I smile at my kid. “Damn.
That was fun. I needed that.”
“Me, too,” he smirks.
Just to be sure Limo Loser
doesn’t follow us to the store and key my car, we drive around the block. It ends up taking us longer to get our
groceries than if we’d never honked at the asshole in the first place, but that
certainly doesn’t make for a blog fodder.
Besides, how often do you get to scream and swear in the middle of a
busy intersection and totally get away with it?
Indeed, sometimes to stay
cool, I have to blow my cool. This
should hold me over for a week or so – Just letting everyone else know it’s
safe to drive around town for a short while.
