Dear Foaming-at-the-Mouth, F-Bomb Dropping, Careful-Your-Face-May-Stay-that-Way, Late-to-See-Her-Convicted-Felon-Beau, Road Rager Who Flipped Off My Beautiful Kid Just Learning to Drive:
(Just a guess on the convicted felon love affair, but since a state prison is one of the sole employers in town, and you are clearly not from here, I’m guessing the only way you happened by was for family & friends day up on the hill.)
So really, lady.
Was it really necessary to try to pass on the right? Then the left? In our tiny town, at 5:30 congested with work, school, sports, church carpoolers, and at least one newly permitted, scared learning to drive 16-year-old?
“Keep calm,” I told her. “No biggie.” You may be in a rush for day care pick up, but she needn’t be alarmed.
She did everything right. You needn’t have flashed your lights again and again, at the clearly labeled NO TURN ON RED traffic light, across from the orthodontist, where everybody knows cops lay in wait to catch the out-of-towners?
I told her you were probably from out of town and didn’t know you can’t turn right. Not to worry.
Did you need to lay on the horn and nearly scare the bejesus out of her and me right in front of St. If You Don’t Go Here You’re Not Going There, which thinks it’s the only holy site in town and shuts down the entire main drag with their own rent-a-cop to let the little doobie-do-gooders-in-training out from mandatory how-to-be-a-good-person school taught by some of the slickest moms in town? (relax homies, i said ‘some.’)
It was night.
The rent-a-cop glowed in the dark. She was following directions. If only St. Do-Gooders had a real cop, perhaps he would have been clued into your violent tendencies and known instinctively how the worst was yet to come.
Kid2 is a new driver. We were on our way to driver’s ed. She listens. Takes this very seriously. Studies hard. Is saving every cent for a car. We practice driving. Slow and steady.
But not too slow, just “I have my permit so take it easy on me slow.”
She’s a rule follower. Analytical. A gear head. Cautious. Nothing at all like her mom.
But unless you’re racing to the ER, relax. This is village driving and she doesn’t suck. Because if she did, this mom would let her know all too quickly. No assistance necessary from you, thank-you-very-much Ms. Whackjob.
But you weren’t going to the ER. You weren’t in that much of a hurry at all, because when we cautiously entered the diner to switch drivers before really scary highway driving, you followed us. And cut us off, rolled down your window and my kid, thought you wanted directions. So she rolled down hers and smiled. I saw her smile. She wanted to help you.
But you yelled so loud and fast it was confusing and at first we thought you didn’t speak English, but then I leaned forward to see your face. And knew.
That hatred and seething anger. It was like in a movie. Over what? Driving 25 in a 30?
You scared me, screaming and yelling like I stole your kid, that cigarette bobbing up and down on your bottom lip, a glow stick illuminating flying spit sparks with every curse word you spewed. You scared me like you might climb out and grab my beautiful daughter and…and…and, so I went into mom mode.
Well fuck you, you impatient mean, nasty, violent road rager. Fuck you very much.
Which is what I wanted to say, while clambering out of my passenger’s seat, diving out the driver side window to grab you by your throat and make you apologize to my girl, my beautiful driving daughter working and focusing so hard.
My babygirl, so excited to be growing up and learning to drive.
Doing the right thing.
At night.
In the snow.
So carefully and diligent I was wishing she always be this cautious and careful and protected. And safe.
Before you started in with the hate and violence and rage.
Kid2: “What’s wrong with that lady, Mom? Why is she so mad? Did I do something wrong?”
Me: “I don’t know, honey. Just smile and wave, okay?
To the lady: “Thanks so much!”
Which we did.
Smiling. And waving and giggling like a couple of goofballs.
“Thanks! Have a good day!”
“Okay, thank you!”
“See ya! Bye, now! Drive safe!”
I, uncomfortably louder and louder than Kid2, reaching across her lap to zip up the window to protect her from the seething words flying in.
All the while the cigarette bobbed up and down, spit sparkled and rage roared.
“FUCKING LEARN TO DRIVE BITCH!”she screeched, flipping us off as she peeled out of the safety of the Diner’s parking lot.
We are lady. Thank you so very much, we are.
Pretend it’s an anthropological assignment!! Hell, you don’t need to pretend – it IS one!! That’s the only rational explanation, isn’t it??
Have a great weekend!
They’re are some pretty unbelievable characters on the roads; why the need for road rage. It never makes sense to me. We all get there in the end.
Found you through Friday blog hops.
Have a great weekend.
CJ xx
Hi CJ & Red, Life is one big experiment, isn’t it? Just smile & wave may be my new mantra.
Thx for reading and sharing your thoughts! Love making new friends!
We live in a smallish town and it never fails to amaze me that the people road rage so bad here. There’s no place to go! I’m sorry your lovely had to have a nasty run in with wooly mammoth lady.
Some people are just nasty. I believe in the whole karma thing, so she will get what is coming.
I went thru similar situations with the first child and the second one will be coming up for his turn to drive near the end of the year. I dont know about you, but I get more and more crusty with each passing year, and my tolerance for that kind of behavior is growing smaller and smaller.
I tend to believe in the karma thing as well Michelle. I do hope people like that get what is coming their way.
I just left an award for you on my blog!
Love the way this is written. Could feel it.
Between the photo of your daughter and this quote: “What’s wrong with that lady, Mom? Why is she so mad? Did I do something wrong?” …depicts so much. I imagined you frantically and manually ROLLING UP the window.
Our street is perpendicular to our Elem School’s St. I swear I’d like to don a uniform myself to ‘police’ most days. People can be nutso!
Great post!
@kris: thinking about jamming the woman in a crate with our dog! http://www.prettyalltrue.com/
@chris: this is my 2nd driver, 1st attack on my kid driving. And patience is wearing thin. By the time #4 hits the road, I’ll be thru that window and throttling the wench.
@michelle??? me? huh? is it FL sunshine? “Says fuck too much but I like her anyhoos” award? I don’t get awards. I get warnings.
@robin my love, forget the uniform and grab a flip camera. Way more powerful! imya
Hello…I just found your link through the Friday Follow group…..Ive had this scenario happen with my daughter as well. People really are rude, seriously.
Stop by and say Hello:)
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There’s always one in the crowd. You did well by smiling and waving. I’m sure your daughter learned a valuable lesson.
Howdy! I found your site on the blog hop and I am your “newest” follower!!! When you get a moment, please stop on by and see my blog!!
Missy
http://missyschraz.blogspot.com
::Standing and applauding in your general blogly direction::
I’ve no idea how I’d have reacted. Very very tempting to cuss right back, except you have to be the mom and the good example. Oh, how I know.
I got pulled over and warned the other day because the highway patrol guy thought I was driving agressively. Really, put on my blinker, was doing the speed limit when I pulled in front of you. Indeed I did see him but I think he as just in a foul mood.
Wasn’t easy being nice to somebody attacking my kid; but I did it. Not sure if I could do it again, but I did it that one time. Fingers crossed it doesn’t happen again — ever!
Kathy – great post. As the mom of a learning-to-drive 16 year-old myself, I certainly understand! And I think you handled it the right way. Rather than screaming obscenities back at her, you taught your daughter do the right thing. Way to go mom!
Thx Vicki! good luck to your driver and may the road rage be elusive!