Road Rage, A Vignette
As I cruised down the road, munching on a raw purple carrot with the zeal of Bugs Bunny himself, I found myself unwittingly drawn into a real-life drama that would have made even the most seasoned Hollywood scriptwriter raise an eyebrow. It was just another mundane morning commute, or so I thought, until fate decided to throw me into the midst of a roadside spectacle that would leave me questioning my own sanity.
Picture this: there I was, about 30 yards behind an Audi, innocently changing lanes as one does in the ebb and flow of morning traffic. Little did I know that this simple maneuver would thrust me into a bizarre encounter that would have me questioning the very fabric of reality.
As I pulled alongside the Audi at a stoplight, preparing to drown out the monotony of the commute with my favorite podcast, I was abruptly jolted out of my morning stupor by a cacophony of expletives that could make a sailor blush. “Expletive! Expletive, I’m going to kill you! I’m going to kill you!” The words echoed in my ears, mingling with the crunch of my carrot as I stared incredulously at the scene unfolding beside me.
There she was, a woman in the Audi, gesticulating wildly with one hand while the other clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. Her window was down, allowing her tirade to spill out into the morning air for all to hear. I couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps I had stumbled upon a real-life reenactment of a scene from some forgotten B-movie.
Cheese and Rice! Bob Clampit! SWEAR WORDS. You stupid Door! Her words tumbled out in a frenzied stream, punctuated by the occasional twitch of her eye that hinted at a deeper well of frustration bubbling beneath the surface. I glanced around, half expecting to see hidden cameras documenting this surreal encounter, but there was no one else in her car. No baby on board sign. No backseat of wild children. Was she a traffic cop off duty? Or very bad a depth perception?
As I replayed the events in my mind, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I had unwittingly become the unwitting protagonist in this roadside drama. Had I inadvertently cut her off? Changed lanes too closely? The details eluded me, lost in the haze of the morning commute.
And then, just when I thought the spectacle couldn’t get any more absurd, she reached for something in the backseat — a bat, perhaps, or some other makeshift weapon of road rage. Ah yes, how American. I took another bite of my carrot, I braced myself for the worst as the light changed to green and she revved her engine like a gladiator preparing for battle.
With a sigh of relief, I merged onto the highway, leaving the Audi driver hands 10 and 2, still glaring at me. As I continued on my way to work, changing lanes with a newfound sense of caution, I couldn’t help but reflect on the absurdity of it all. She was going to beat me with a baseball bat for changing lanes? Lol, okay. Carrot was amazing.
