I almost lost my life yesterday...and I'm being only slightly dramatic.
A dusting of snow blew through the Baltimore area yesterday, ushering in with it the first round of panicked winter drivers. Poor planning and procrastination landed me at Target just as the skies began to go gray in anticipation of the impending fluffy (flooofy) stuff. Twenty minutes and $145 later, I evacuated Target and started the ten minute trek home.
An hour and a half later, I was still sitting on York Road. Generally speaking, I don't get upset about traffic. First of all, I rarely sit in traffic; secondly, the road was slick, so why be angry? We're all in the same boat, right? So I took the extra time in my car as an opportunity to Shazam some new songs from the radio. No big deal. And the fact that I rarely clean out my car means I could survive for weeks, if need be, from the contents of my trunk. (I have junk in my trunk, if you will.) So let there be a blizzard for all I care.
And then Angry Man in the Suburban arrived. I was creeping along in an endless procession of cars, enjoying my one-woman concert, when a very large Suburban-type vehicle decided to attempt a merger where no merger existed. Entering from my left, the mammoth truck approached my car and stopped within a foot or so of my driver side door...and in the process, blocked two lanes of traffic attempting to pass in the opposite direction. Confused, I spent the next five minutes (because, again, no one was moving) trying to determine what he wanted--behind me? in front of me? I just had no idea because his maneuver was just that asinine.
Of course, I chose wrong. Using my common sense (I can't move forward or backward), a little rough math (he was a smidgen too close), and the physics I just earned an A with (forces acting on a mammoth object on an incline plane), I decided he needed to merge behind me. There was no way he was making it in the space in front of me, even if he wanted to...which, based on his next move, he did. The two feet I finally moved forward prompted the most INSANE display of road rage to which I have ever bore witness:
"You [expletive] idiot! You [expletive] idiot! You should've let me go! Aw, shut up, you [expletive] stupid [expletive]! I can't believe you, you stupid [expletive]!"
Not only was the man screaming at me, he put his car in park, braved the 27 degree weather, and advanced in my direction to do so. I definitely saw the vein pulsating on his forehead, his crazy eyes glaring at me as he planned my slow painful death. I attempted to reason with the man, starting to explain that according to my calculations, there was no way he could even fit in the space in front of me...but then he called me a stupid [expletive], so I just shrugged my shoulders and ignored him. I figured if he did decide to kill me over two feet, there were enough witnesses to testify that he, indeed, could not fit in front of me.
So, yeah, that was the amazing start to my favorite season of the year. And this story took front seat to my story of accidentally walking into the men's room at the movie theater, and my account of accidentally forgetting which house was my friend's, ringing the wrong doorbell, and waking up a 90 year old man in the process.
I'm neurotic today because....
...after Angry Man in the Suburban merged behind me, I demonstrated my good will by allowing every car I possibly could to merge in front of me. Yeah, it made my drive longer...but it also made my point.
