The road is quite an interesting place, as we all know. It is truly a wonder that most of the people driving were actually granted a license. Actually, it’s pretty terrifying.
I like to think I am a pretty reasonable driver. I’ve had my moments, but I am mostly aware and at least somewhat respectful of human life on the road, which is more than I can say for most drivers. I’ve had a lot of run-ins with ass clowns though, so here’s a quick story about one of them.
I was driving along, minding my own business, and obeying the speed limit. Suddenly, a car speeds up behind me and gets right on my ass. I double check that I’m going the speed limit and I am. The car is still on my ass but I keep the road rage in check and just merge over into the next lane. The car speeds up but stops once it is even with me. I look over and what is staring back at me is the most angry old lady I have ever seen. Like, heart attack angry. Like, demon-straight-out-of-Satan’-s-butthole angry.
This lady is staring into my soul and chopping it into tiny little pieces with her eye daggers. I’m confused as can be now and am looking around to check if I could’ve ran someone over or if I unknowingly have a bumper sticker on my car that says “QVC sucks”.
She shakes her fist at me and I give her the “You might as well be an 8-legged unicorn with a cowboy hat on cause I’m confused as shit” face. She motions for me to roll my window down and I oblige. She waits for the window to fully lower and for me to stick my head out in inquiry before she proceeds to enthusiastically flip me off.
Who’s grandma was this?
I’m starting to feel my anger boil now. I attempt to ignore it and just stare ahead at the road. I glance into my rear-view mirror and can now see grandma is hot on my tail once again. She is still flipping me off and I can see her screaming now. I’ve had enough at this point and I begin to break check her. Before anyone tries to call me a dickhead for break checking a grandma, 1) She is the one who is a dickhead. And 2) You’re also a dickhead.
As I continue to lightly break check her, (yes, I wasn’t trying to kill her – time will be taking care of that soon) she snaps into an animalistic rage. I see her punching the ceiling of her car excitedly like some kind of strung out 80’s movie bully chasing down their nerd prey. For some reason this is when I notice her mullet. She looks like Kiefer Sutherland in The Lost Boys. She pulls out a cell phone and begins taking pictures of my license plate. Yes, this grandma was now texting and driving. After a few moments she looks at her phone with a satisfied smile and gives me a sarcastic thumbs up as if she finally acquired the incriminating evidence she needed. She then merges into the next lane and stares me down one last time before making a gun with her hand and pretending to cap me. (She’s obviously seen Gran Torino) She then kicks her Nissan Altima into high gear and shoots off into the sunset like Han Solo reaching light speed.
I quickly catch a sticker on the back of Grandma Satan’s car before she vanishes, and oh what a sticker it was.