Today on the way into work I was cut off by a man in a maroon, rusted out minivan with duct tape holding his rear bumper in place. Seconds after his desperate maneuver we were brought to a stop as a light changed red. This provided me with the delightful opportunity to take a mental snapshot of the moment.
His bumper, or rather the stickers upon it, indicated that he was very fond of George W. Bush and supported our troops. Another sticker stated that he had an "Illegal Alien Hunting Permit."
He had a tiki doll hanging from his rear view mirror and big fuzzy seat coverings. I observed that he had also applied fashionable rodeo like stickers to the base of his van, though their feeling was much diminished by the rust patches which broke the flowing contours of the lines in various places.
Another sticker on the rear window mentioned that he was a Vietnam vet, and somewhere below that another mentioned he was lucky enough to have god as his co-pilot.
At some point he decided to answer his cell phone, when shortly there after the light turned green and he did not respond I denied myself the satisfaction of slamming down the horn and decided to see how long it would take for this man, who was in such a hurry to cut me off, to finish his phone call and be on his way.
His bumper, or rather the stickers upon it, indicated that he was very fond of George W. Bush and supported our troops. Another sticker stated that he had an "Illegal Alien Hunting Permit."
He had a tiki doll hanging from his rear view mirror and big fuzzy seat coverings. I observed that he had also applied fashionable rodeo like stickers to the base of his van, though their feeling was much diminished by the rust patches which broke the flowing contours of the lines in various places.
Another sticker on the rear window mentioned that he was a Vietnam vet, and somewhere below that another mentioned he was lucky enough to have god as his co-pilot.
At some point he decided to answer his cell phone, when shortly there after the light turned green and he did not respond I denied myself the satisfaction of slamming down the horn and decided to see how long it would take for this man, who was in such a hurry to cut me off, to finish his phone call and be on his way.
And so I sat, detached from my anger yet conscious it was present,
And the cars behind me honked,
And eventually I laughed to myself,
And the cars behind me honked.
And as the light turned yellow he slammed on the gas, an explosion of emissions showered my car from the tail pipe of his delightful van… and he rocketed through the light, and the rest of us sat there waiting for it to turn green again.
I was lucky enough to catch up to him again at the next light, 2 blocks down the street. This time his response time was much more efficient.
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