Road Rage

On Friday, a kid cut me off on the way home. He had a stop sign. He didn’t even look to see if anyone was coming the other way – he just… merged.

This kind of stuff infuriates me. Where I can’t say I get road rage, I DO get horn-happy (notice I didn’t say horny – although I thought about it!). There’s nothing more fun than letting the youth of our nation know that they should be more careful drivers. I hit the horn maybe 3 times – for several seconds. I know it’s stupid, but it felt good. It’s my way of saying what I think when I know I’ll never see the offender again.

I follow behind “Mr. Cut-me-off” for about a half mile. He puts his turn signal on – right where I’m turning. I hit my turn signal. Where I feel good that he’s at least USING his turn signal, I don’t want him to think I’m a stalker. He then does something utterly mortifying. He hits his turn signal again – RIGHT WHERE I LIVE.

To make a long story short, he pulls into the driveway RIGHT NEXT TO MINE. I had road rage on my neighbor!

Oh dear.

There’s nothing I can do to mask the humiliation I feel about honking forever at my neighbor. Road rage is supposed to be an anonymous event! I just got out of the car, looked at him and said, “Please be careful!” He was embarrassed too… He apologized. I ran into my house.

I think I’m going to remove the horn from my car.