Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Dear Snotty Driver,

It's very sad that you were so angry you decided to flash your lights at me last night. In my world, that means "go ahead." And so I did. Well, to be honest, I would have gone anyway. Because my dog was in the back of my car with a shredded ear and I was doing my best to get her to the doggie ER despite the insanely slow series of red lights at that intersection where we first met.

Yes, I hit all of those red lights while my poor pooch dripped blood all over the back of my car. And when the little Ford Escort in front of you approached the intersection, there was plenty of room between him and you for me to merge in between. Unfortunately, when his little car couldn't make it up the hill that gap got smaller. And I still merged.

See, people like you who are impatient and mean but drive BMWs don't understand this phenomenon -- you know, when a car can't accelerate up a hill? Maybe you did at one time (when you were seventeen and drove a beater) but you've forgotten because you drive a car with the power of a semi under its hood. And you're snotty and rude. Snotty and rude together with a powerful car does not make for a good combination.

I was hoping that you were flashing your lights to let me into the lane, but when I got off the road at the Animal ER and you honked at me, I guessed you didn't want my car in front of you. So that's when I called you names and honked back. Jerk.

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