Typically on my way in and out of work, driving along 66, I zone out -- I accelerate and break appropriately, but lose myself in thought or my Hot Hot Heat CD. Perhaps I should pay more attention. Who knows, maybe the guy in the silver Camry to the right is the love of my life and he's waving to me [Side note: craigslist missed connections makes for an interesting read sometimes, and there's all sorts of people smiling and winking at each other all over the place]. Tonight however, I could not help but witness an interesting battle. I like to call it: The Battle of the Douchebags.
The players: an van or SUV-type vehicle and I think one of those little Mazda Speeds.
The setting: 267 merging into 66, continuing on 66
The plot: The SUV was driving behind me on 267 and somewhat blinding me with unusually bright headlights. My urge to show the driver my middle finger was tempered by my fear of getting shot. We were driving with the flow of traffic so neither one of us switched lanes. As we both merged onto 66, I merged into the right lane to continue on my merry way home. The SUV continued to merge into the left lane, and almost stumbled over the Mazda Speed. It was at this moment that the SUV decided to turn on his/her high beams, I suppose to signal to the Mazda Speed to get out of the way. The high beams were high enough to illuminate the road a half-mile up ahead, and I could have comfortably read a book, driving alongside the SUV. In retaliation, the Mazda Speed slowed down to a comfortable 40 mph on the 55 mph road. I drove on by, but kept checking the rearview mirror to see which one would take the high road, so to speak, and switch lanes. As far as I could tell, the two stubborn douchebags continued on, the SUV bearing down on the Mazda, and the Mazda driving along as if it had pooped its pants (Russian expression).
Apologies for this event being the most interesting story I have at the moment.
[Side Note continued: The missed connections on craigslist fascinates me. Usually people will meet at school or through friends or through family. Not typically at a bus stop. So when I read about these strangers striking up conversations at grocery stores but not exchanging numbers, or smiling at each other at the car wash only to part ways without saying a word, I always wonder if they ever end up finding each other again.]