Ms. Road Rage

The vast majority of us approach life with a sense of purpose and order. Our purposes may differ but we all follow the same basic rituals. Get up, shower, get dressed, go to work, etc. The destinations may vary. The order in which we do these things may vary but basically we are all trudging about our mundane lives without a whole lot of change in routine. Even the occasional routine upset is carried out routinely. We each have our basic priorities that get carried out in some logical form despite the unforeseen interruption by none other than Murphy’s Law.

So far, the day has begun according to plan: Coffee in the cup holder – check. Cell phone within reach and hands-free device all set – check. Bopping to a good tune on the radio ignoring the guy in the car to your left that’s laughing at you – check, check.

And then, he appears. You know the one. The one who is predictably unpredictable. The one waiting to merge. Clearly, he saw me in the distance forging towards him at 110mph but decided at the LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE that this was his point of entry. He hits the gas and cuts right in front of me, in a huge rush to be one car ahead of me – only to go a whopping 40mph!

God! I hate that! Don’t you hate that?!? Why do they do that?!? And it must be noted that I looked in my rear view mirror at precisely this moment and saw not a single soul behind me. Like he couldn’t have waited! Big rush to go nowhere! What’s the matter? Brain not in use when car is in motion?!?

See, it’s this upset of routine that brings out the very non-lady in me. Not just any upset of routine – I can juggle and multi-task with the best of them. This – this is just stupidity that cannot be tolerated! The sheer rage of this moment of having to jam on the brakes seems to paradoxically accelerate my mouth. The barrage of profanely peppered insults I hurl at this inane halfwit would make Andrew Dice Clay blush.

This venomous pseudo-argument I have with this mentally out-to-lunch, spoiler of my morning, would probably sound hysterical as some stand up bit in a smoke-filled, hole-in-the-wall comedy club, but I’m a card carrying member of the PTA! However, I must say, I’m probably at my funniest when I’m incensed. Had anyone been in the car with me they’d be shocked but laughing. Then again, had anyone been in the car with me I’d never let loose.

Alas, all my best material is wasted on the steering wheel.