Road Warrior

As someone who spends a fair amount of time canvassing the highways to get to and fro work, I also spend a fair amount of time offering discourse on what I hate about other drivers on the road. Fang always says, "Everyone on the road is an asshole, except for YOU, of course." Why yes, that's true.

I love to opine about asphalt cowboys, these being those mavericks who weave between traffic lanes at break neck and impatient speeds. In my unscientific study, these are usually middle aged white men driving BMWs with New Jersey or Pennsylvania plates. Or there are those geriatric conductors (usually with Connecticut or Florida plates) who drive in the fast lanes at 45 mph. There are the young reckless kids who take a gleeful pride in cutting you off because dontcha know, the world revolves around them, cocky bastards. I have a generalized laundry list of drivers I hate. A few are cited above.

I'll repeat--as Fang says, everyone on the road is an asshole but me.

I usually start my drive to the Nutmeg State in a relaxed and peaceful state of calm. Once I meander into the Bronx, my blood pressure is already rising. The catalyst is usually that lone daily asshole in the BMW having just made his way across the George Washington Bridge from Jersey. Dude thinks he owns the world, all five boroughs of New York and the road. This symbolic jerk gets my ire churning every single day. This driver crosses my path every single day. I hate him more every single day. I worry (every single day) that one day, there will be blood.

And today, there almost was.

I was merging onto the Cross Bronx. A shiny black BMW veered into my lane, nearly grazing the front of my car. It was inches from me as he thoughtlessly cut into my lane. I was calm seconds before but the shock of the vehicular intrusion and the arrogance of his selfishness bugged me. I was seized by annoyance and did something I generally disdain in other drivers. As BMWJerseyMan edged his way into the far right lane, I sped up to ride up alongside him in stop-and-go traffic. Catching his gaze (and bingo--he was a white middle aged man), I gave him a visual full force of my anger. Not the middle finger which is far too basic--the brother got both my hands full of fingers (a symbolic gesture which represents a solid ten fuck yous). And at the same time, a Turret's worthy gabbling of obscenities. I'm pretty sure even the worst lip reader could see I was suggesting his mother was a rather prominent streetwalker. I don't know what came over me but his reaction made it clear he understood the subtitles.

Being the ass that he is, he kept pace with my car reciprocating in finger gestures and offering lip reading worthy retorts (but can you say, "Your mother is the town whore" in six languages? Yeah, I didn't think so. English alone is so base, dude). This curious and angry pantomime continued between us for a matter of seconds until the car ahead of me slammed on their brakes. I reacted late and nearly rear ended the innocent driver in front of me. Fortunately, I didn't make contact but I missed having the final word as Mr. BMWJerseyMan sped off, holding aloft a simple, symbolic middle finger. I was beyond myself with anger (if not relief for having avoided a costly accident).

It's many hours later but I am still angrily churning at the balls of this fool. It only takes one but they are usually middle aged white men in BMWs with Jersey plates. I may just go vigilante on their asses.

When I relayed this story to Fang tonight, he listened thoughtfully. He then said (as I feared), "Yes, everyone on the road is an asshole but you."

Of course.