The Journal :: Nekkid, Clueless and Feelin' Good


Thursday,
March 3, 2005

Oh, how I love North Dallas drivers. Not.

So I'm in the rightmost lane on Hedgcoxe Road this morning, as usual, and I pull to a stop at a red light at the corner of Ohio. Since the light had just turned red, I assumed I had at least 30 seconds of time before the light turned green, so I leaned over to grab my brush from the glove compartment (I'd just taken a shower and my hair was dry enough to brush. By the way, why is this compartment still called the glove compartment? Does anyone keep gloves in it  Wouldn't a better name be the registration/insurance card/oil change record/random shit compartment? But I digress).

During the millisecond of my leaning over, I heard the RRRRRRROAR of someone revving their engine behind me. I straightened up and checked my rear view mirror -- in back of me was a big old green pickup being driven by a middle-aged man who was glaring at me, making little gestures with his hands and saying something (I presume about me, and probably not flattering). He noticed me looking in my mirror and revved his engine again, still mouthing away.

My initial thought was, "What the $#@& is wrong with you, moron?" We were sitting at a red light -- it wasn't like I could go anywhere. And then I realized what was going on -- he was obviously convinced I would become so enraptured by the contents of my random shit compartment that I wouldn't notice the light turning green, thereby holding him up by those oh-so-crucial milliseconds and proving to the world that he didn't have a penis.

As I don't have laser-guided ordinance installed on my roof (yet, anyway), I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and didn't lean over again, although I was tempted to do it just to mess with him. The light changed and I rolled into the intersection, at which point he gunned his engine and squealed around the corner, still talking and gesturing at me.

And now, the confusing part -- we were parked next to a flipping gas station. If he was in such a hurry, all he had to do was cut through the station's forecourt and take the exit onto Ohio; instead, he decided to act like a complete asshat. My only hope is that the cops who lurk down that road nailed his moronic butt for speeding.


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