Seeing as I've been out of town for the above mentioned long weekend, and the fridge looked like the Three Bears had taken up residence, I went out on a noontime run to the store for some food. I try to avoid as many traffic lights as possible, so I was taking a side road. My best friend from high school used to live on this side street, so I am well acquainted with the fact that there are stop signs on each block of its entire length.
As I approached the end of the block, slowing with my foot on the brake, a woman driving through the intersection, blows her horn at me and screams at me that I was going through the stop sign. She shouldn't have done that.
Being tired, cranky and in no mood for this bitch to wrongly accuse me, instead of going straight and on my way, I made a quick right and pulled up along side of her... which put me on the wrong side of the road. I proceeded to ask her what the fuck was her problem, and she told me I wasn't stopping. SHE was telling ME what I was doing. Way wrong thing to say. The Jersey came out fast and I tell you, it was true poetry. In a well constructed few paragraphs, I do believe I utilized my entire catalog of expletives. She tried in vain to compete, even saying something about the town she was from, which was a rich bitch community, not the down and dirty town I live in. At that point I told her where to go, and it wasn't the rich bitch town she was from.
Road rage... I think not. Just a little taste of "I don't take that shit from nobody." I pulled away, she looked terrified, my work was done.
Maybe being down south for a few days, where everyone is polite and shit, caused some serious attitude repercussions for me. Or maybe it's just me getting back in the Jersey groove. Whatever.
It is what it is.
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