Thursday, October 29, 2009

Road Rage! Speed Racer.

I was just on my way home from watching The Office with my mom. I could get off exit 7 or 6 to get home, and as I drove around the ramp onto alternate 7, I wondered why I hadn't chosen the other exit. I decided that the convenience of either is probably equal, as one involves more stoplights at the beginning part, and the other at the end. As I waited at a stoplight on 6th, I noticed the vehicle next to me creeping forward. I know exactly what it's doing...I tend to do it myself. The right hand lane becomes a right hand turning lane, so if you want to pass the line of cars in the left lane, you've gotta step on it. I inch forward also, letting the driver know that I'm awake and not planning to hesitate when the light turns green. A right hand turning arrow lit up and said vehicle (which happened to be a Jeep Cherokee) almost drove through it. When the light really did turn green, we both stepped on it, nose to nose, with the Jeep pushing me into the other lane. Finally I decided that winning was not worth crashing my new car, so I slowed up. But I was angry. Doing the right hand speed up lane thing is a jerk move. I know, because I often do it. For some reason, however, I think that it should only be employed and pushed if the other person is old or slow and would thus be in the way. So, in my view, this Jeep was being a jerk. I lay on my horn for...I don't know, probably about a minute. I would have laid on it longer had we not been approaching the police station. I high-beamed on and off, figuring that my station wagon was most likely not tall enough to have any effect. As the Jeep took a right on route 2 (congress? fulton? the west bound one) I started to dread the fact that I would have to be turning left soon, and this is another two laned road and said Jeep would probably try to race me again. Instead, the Jeep pulled into the first left hand turning lane and took a left on 5th. As he waited for the opportunity to turn, I honked again as I drove by. I got a look at him, he looked angry and confused. I mouthed an angry word at him. Small white boy. Why would you race a girl in a station wagon? It's like beating up your grandma. Just because you can do it, doesn't mean you should. I took my left up third and thought about how my car isn't made for racing, how I was afraid the offender might work for a school, things like that. When I pulled in front of my house, I took a minute to gather the things in my car, being sure to remove dirty tupperware so I don't have a disaster zone like I left in my last car. I get out, lock my car, and am startled when a vehicle drives by and honks at just the moment it passes me. I get a glimpse as it rounds the corner closest to my house. Sure enough, a Jeep Wrangler. I present my one leg no wing greeting, and go inside.


He knows where I live.


I feel safe in this city because I don't have any enemies. It seems I've made an enemy. Crap. Crap. Crap.

Every car that pulls up freaks me out a bit. Why would one drive up Fifth and then down Second? Down my block? Was this guy LOOKING for me? Did this guy know where I live? Is this a supposed friend of mine? One of the RPI guys? I think they all drive little cars.

Are you the jerk who tried to race me? Show yourself! They don't call me Brazofuerte for nothing!!

1 comment:

Fraggle said...

Brazofuerte, love it! I was telling my sister's boyfriend about your blog, and your solo trip cross country and he just went "Since when has an Armstrong needed anybody to do anything for them? The name is ARMSTORNG!" (or something like that. basically that your name is bad ass.)

But yea, Jeep guy is creepy. :/