Road Rage


I must confess that at the age of eighteen I suffered an episode of road rage.
I was going 55 mph in the slow lane when I saw coming at me, very fast, maybe 85mph, a white Mercedes Benz. It came right up behind me, swerved at the last second, barely missing me and then went on by.
I saw it was a woman wearing a fancy wide-brimmed hat.

I went temporarily insane and floored the gas peddle of my VW Beetle.
I was able to pull up beside her. I lowered my window, raised my middle finger and screamed,
“Eat shit, Bitch!”
She was a very old lady and I startled her.
She pulled off the road, went into the grass and slid sideways.
I didn’t stop to help. If she got hurt it was my fault.
I felt bad for nearly one hour.

I think that what really made me mad was, when she swerved around me,
I dropped the piece of pizza I was eating onto the floor.


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