apoplectically yours, a cautionary tale
I was working with my last raw nerve as I made my way through dreary rush-hour traffic. The week had already loosened my delicate hold on sanity so I was already threatening to buckle and disintegrate into a thousand little pieces, or as my mom would say "hecho polvo".
Then somebody had to make me truly, madly, scalp-huntingly pissed off.
I seem to recall my nemeses might have had opposable thumbs, but I doubt they had measurable IQ. Entirely self-absorbed and self-indulgent, they seriously believed that because they were driving that the rest of the cars should clear path for them as if they were Moses himself, and that I should pull out in heavy traffic because THEY were in a hurry. Ah, the doltishness of vain youth.
Anyone that has ever been a passenger in my car would not say I was a timid driver. The running joke is that I should require my passengers to wear Depends Diapers since it is difficult for the bowels to withstand some of the driving maneuvers I make. So when a couple in the car behind me honks and flips me the bird for not being brave enough to bust a move into oncoming traffic, well, I lost it. The evil side of my brain assumed control of every nerve and muscle of my body. As I looked back at their forthright expressions of contempt my body became monstrously inhabited and I stepped out of it, leaving this crazy person in charge.
I turned the engine off and got out of the car. I felt like a huge person, invincible and intent to adjudicate the errors their ways. I walked towards my enemies. "Come out and do that to me now" I said, I heard the angry calmness of my own voice, "Flip me off now."
I was absolutely furious. I had a vision of shaking the girl by her flabby shoulders until her little brain rattled into jello. I wanted to knee her boyfriend in the gonads hard and painful and hear his moaning broken-boner cry.
I asked them why was my death an OK option? Why should I risk a head-on collision with a Freightliner so they could arrive at their destination 3 minutes faster? We just want the same thing. We just want to get through the day. We all just want arrive at a safe and warm destination without suffering any major life-threatening head injuries. (Thank gawd, I didn't go on about we all justing wanting love, to be loved and all that incredibly lame warm and fuzzy funkiness).
The pair the remained wordlessly in their car, out of shame, disgust or fascination, I do not know. I don't really remember.
I spun on my heel and went back into my car and, like the brat I am, waited until there was nary a car around before I crossed left. I didn't hear a peep from them ("leave the crazy midget lady alone" they might have been thinking).
This is how I've progressed? This is how I, a sentient carbon-based bipedal homo sapien, have grown and evolved? Lecturing acne-prone schmucks in the middle of traffic? Why did I give their actions, circumstances I usually let roll off my back, such weight and import? I should have just laughed and shook my head and moved on, or perhaps even feel a moment of compassion for these regrettable kids and think, no matter how bad it gets, at least I am not as stupid as they are.
Seething bilious anger can sometimes just take over a body, and when it does it can have great foolish power. I think back on it with incredulous regret; how could I have ever engaged in such simplistic road rage.
No doubt anyone reading this is probably thinking I need a year's worth of psychiatric evaluations and weekly meetings with an anger management team. If the event wasn't so out of character I would agree. Or perhaps my temper is just lying fallow, waiting for another resurgence. Maybe my anger was simply misdirected. How many quiet things can fill you up before you overflow with them and crack in the middle of the street. And maybe, if I'm very lucky, my next victim will be packing heavy artillery.
And, jeesooks, if I ever grow to fit that mouth of mine, I'm going be as big as a sperm whale!
Then somebody had to make me truly, madly, scalp-huntingly pissed off.
I seem to recall my nemeses might have had opposable thumbs, but I doubt they had measurable IQ. Entirely self-absorbed and self-indulgent, they seriously believed that because they were driving that the rest of the cars should clear path for them as if they were Moses himself, and that I should pull out in heavy traffic because THEY were in a hurry. Ah, the doltishness of vain youth.
Anyone that has ever been a passenger in my car would not say I was a timid driver. The running joke is that I should require my passengers to wear Depends Diapers since it is difficult for the bowels to withstand some of the driving maneuvers I make. So when a couple in the car behind me honks and flips me the bird for not being brave enough to bust a move into oncoming traffic, well, I lost it. The evil side of my brain assumed control of every nerve and muscle of my body. As I looked back at their forthright expressions of contempt my body became monstrously inhabited and I stepped out of it, leaving this crazy person in charge.
I turned the engine off and got out of the car. I felt like a huge person, invincible and intent to adjudicate the errors their ways. I walked towards my enemies. "Come out and do that to me now" I said, I heard the angry calmness of my own voice, "Flip me off now."
I was absolutely furious. I had a vision of shaking the girl by her flabby shoulders until her little brain rattled into jello. I wanted to knee her boyfriend in the gonads hard and painful and hear his moaning broken-boner cry.
I asked them why was my death an OK option? Why should I risk a head-on collision with a Freightliner so they could arrive at their destination 3 minutes faster? We just want the same thing. We just want to get through the day. We all just want arrive at a safe and warm destination without suffering any major life-threatening head injuries. (Thank gawd, I didn't go on about we all justing wanting love, to be loved and all that incredibly lame warm and fuzzy funkiness).
The pair the remained wordlessly in their car, out of shame, disgust or fascination, I do not know. I don't really remember.
I spun on my heel and went back into my car and, like the brat I am, waited until there was nary a car around before I crossed left. I didn't hear a peep from them ("leave the crazy midget lady alone" they might have been thinking).
This is how I've progressed? This is how I, a sentient carbon-based bipedal homo sapien, have grown and evolved? Lecturing acne-prone schmucks in the middle of traffic? Why did I give their actions, circumstances I usually let roll off my back, such weight and import? I should have just laughed and shook my head and moved on, or perhaps even feel a moment of compassion for these regrettable kids and think, no matter how bad it gets, at least I am not as stupid as they are.
Seething bilious anger can sometimes just take over a body, and when it does it can have great foolish power. I think back on it with incredulous regret; how could I have ever engaged in such simplistic road rage.
No doubt anyone reading this is probably thinking I need a year's worth of psychiatric evaluations and weekly meetings with an anger management team. If the event wasn't so out of character I would agree. Or perhaps my temper is just lying fallow, waiting for another resurgence. Maybe my anger was simply misdirected. How many quiet things can fill you up before you overflow with them and crack in the middle of the street. And maybe, if I'm very lucky, my next victim will be packing heavy artillery.
And, jeesooks, if I ever grow to fit that mouth of mine, I'm going be as big as a sperm whale!
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