Monday, February 03, 2014
First: you can't really see him.
Second: it's his backside, so he's even more unrecognizable. I guess he might recognize himself. But to anyone else, he's just any other tall slender dark gray haired man with high waters.
Or is he a short guy, with black hair? Still in high waters.
Or an average height guy with brown hair? Can't get rid of them high waters though.
Regardless, I'm keeping him vague to protect the guilty.
My regular readers and friends will know that I am a recovering road rager. I'm doing pretty well with it, thanks for asking. I could say it's not easy, with the state of driving around me but it really has been OK. Not easy peasy but I am at peace with the dickhead drivers of the world.
I've also mentioned that my path to work includes a very pretty, meandering 'path' that drops from an easy 35 mph to a very slow 25 mph. It goes for a long drive of 25 mph. The state decided that, because there are houses along this pretty road, wild animals (because it's near forestry and parks), bicyclists, joggers, walkers, etc., that 25 would be the ideal speed for cars.
However, most drivers in said cars do not agree that 25 mph is a great speed limit and therefore, choose to go whatever speed suits them. I have seen my fellow work mates post FB posts about getting pulled over doing 45+ mph on these roads. Ewww. I'd hate to have that ticket.
People who live around these roads have put up signs asking, demanding, that cars slow down. My very own workplace security division often sends out reminders to the entire company about the speed limit in that very area, because THEY receive complaints from the 'hood and local police officials about how much speeding is done, mostly, by people from my company. How very embarrassing.
And I have, on numerous occasions, been a victim of people tailgating me because I am one of few law-abiding citizens who WILL do 25 mphs on that road. Early on, my blood pressure would quicken and I would want to tap my breaks, wave my hands at them, whatever...but eventually, I would just flip my rearview mirror into night view, so as not to see them so close to me.
And then even later, I found my Zen and can allow them to tail me without doing either of the above. I can simply ignore, without contempt, and carry on my merry way. This has saved more than one asshole from a ticket when we happen to come upon a cop, targeting speeders on that road. And you know what? No "thank yous" have ever been given to me for the gift I gave them.
But today...today I had a black SUV RIGHT ON MY BUMPER. At first, I was too busy jamming to my favorite band, Marilyn Manson, to really notice. But when I could only see mostly grill (I now drive a little Ford Focus), I thought: hmmm...this car is a little too close.
I gave it the benefit of the doubt. SOMETIMES, these cars are trying to adjust to the speed and quickly slow down and back off. Um...no. This one does not. So, to me, that means, it is making a point that it is angry with my speed and is showing me by riding on my butt.
Still...no elevated blood pressure. Instead, I dramatically get into the music: drumming, thumping my hands, shaking/nodding my head to the beat, so as to show that I could care less that it is on my ass.
It backs off eventually. I see a few cars behind it too. My driving 25, or anyone else, usually causes a chain of cars because, NO ONE seems to want to drive the speed limit. NOTE: there are other ways to get to my work, that is not out of the way, to avoid THIS route. So really, there is no excuse to drive this route if you DO NOT want to do the speed limit and enjoy the scenery AND keep folks not in cars safe.
When I pull into the campus that I work at, I don't see it. Hmm...it must not work here.
Nope. It ended up in my blind spot and quickly rounded me. When I say quickly, it was quite 'exaggerated'. It had to turn back into my lane since the left lane was closed due to construction...this was a dramatic move. I caught up to it and, what do you know, we are going in the same direction.
I decide: I'm going to follow it. I need to know who this fucker is. Man? Woman? I'm going to park right next to it. I know most folks at my work, being that I've worked there for 17 years...and the direction it was going in was where I worked for those 17 years.
Each turn it made was just...that same exaggerated move. Like it knew I was behind it. Good. It's feeling the pressure *of me* and it's trying to show off.
Imagine my surprise when it pulls into the parking deck that I usually park at...I follow...and it parks. I can't park right next to it...but I can park one car away. Then...I wait. It does not come out of the car. For awhile.
It's about 9:15 and I know I can wait this fucker out. I don't have a meeting until 10. It will NOT be able to sit in it's care until 9:55. Why should it? It's got to work. I've got a mission.
I stare at it's window. If it looks my way, it will know I'm waiting. So I decide to look at my phone to throw it off.
Finally, it comes out. It's a he. I get out. And I have no clue who this dude is. Never seen him in my life. He's smacking gum like a cow chews cud.
He walks but I then wonder if he knows what my deal is. I have all the confidence, cockiness and bitchiness all in me to just stare this guy down, whether he senses it or not.
We are going to the same building. I notice a side glance. Yup. He knows why I'm behind him. And I loved clicking my boots loudly, slowly, like from some thriller stalker movie, following behind him. I know how it feels to be followed and...'ogled' from behind. It's a very uncomfortable feeling.
When we get to the door, I see him struggle with: should I open it for her or not? In that split second indecision, he managed to stumble the door opening action and smacked it into his face. Oh sweet buddha. I was so happy. My job was done.
I never said one word. Didn't even look him in the eye.
So, I don't know if that counts as road rage. I was very calm. My blood pressure was fine, until the door smacked him in the face, then it escalated with elation.