'Lotta Rage? Little Rascals.

Y'all. This week? Someone let the crazies out. More specifically, me. I'm on the loose, two glasses (read:cups. Like the big ones) in, with unsupervised access to the Internet. So there is a very real possibility this might not make sense. But that sounds like your problem, not mine. Write drunk, edit sober: Take 1.

So I posted this on insta the other day:


and for the most part it was extremely well received. I'm lookin at you ma, Frankie says relax! I made it out alive and well enough to tell the story. So I thought I'd expand on it a little.

I'm not sure where you live, but in my world, every single road I drive on is under construction. Side eye: 121 & 114. Oh, right. I have a mildly related confess sesh. That traffic all of you are having to deal with every friggin day? It is God's direct attempt to teach me patience for the 900th time. Which makes me solely responsible for the terrible cluster...and for that, I'm sorry.

I know you've all heard the "women are bad drivers" stereotype. That's also probably my fault too. I'm good at a lot a few like 3 things. Driving isn't necessarily one of them. Although I'd like to point out I didn't get my first and only speeding ticket until I was 25. So in the grand spectrum of bad, I'm just to left of below average. To counteract this, I try and be a courteous driver, and pay it forward when I can. But nothing irritates me more than people who flat out ignore warning signs. Ones that say things like "this lane ENDS"...as in, no more pavement, so get over. Now. Yes you, princess. The construction workers are even looking out for the women idiots and put up 20 of them, in bright shiny colors, with flashing arrows so even the blind have zero excuse. If you're new to this route? You get a free pass. ONCE. But I swear on all things Southern that I see the same people ignoring the signs every.single.morning. Don't believe me? One lady drives a tan Buick, has a bad bleach job, chain smokes with her windows UP, and has a student on the honor roll. Yes, im that observant. She is not alone. There are an unlimited number of drivers "cutting" (for lack of a less kindergarten phrase). They think its totes adorbs to go speeding past everyone who READ the signs, until surprise! they run out of pavement and are forced to slam on their brakes so they dont DIE. And finally, because they live in the land of self righteous entitlement, they get grouchy when no one will let them over... like its some big mystery what happened. To these people, on behalf of all drivers, I'd just like to say: we hate you.

So today. Despite my better judgement, and even though it was clearly my turn, I let what I can only assume was a drunk truck driver in an 18 wheeler go in front of me. Mostly because I saw him blindly fly across 4 lanes of traffic and oh-hi-you-are-way-bigger-than-me-please-go-ahead-and-for-the-love-don't-squish-red-car-Thanks-and-Gig'em. I didn't even get mad. I just let him merge. Its traffic, he's clearly late for his meeting at some douche canoe convention (which explains the trailer), so I paid it forward. Calm, cool, collected.

Now, imagine my surprise when Mr. Yaris (yes, I know. I'm was as just as shocked as you are) comes flying up outta nowhere, honking at me like I'm in the way and wants to jump in front of me. NOT.HAPPENING.BRO. I don't do that level of nice before 9am. I do side eyes, exaggerated huffs, grunts, and sarcasm. And since Big Rig just helped himself to a piece of my patience, you can take a number, sweet cheeks. This is a matter of principle. Now, Sit down. Consider this penance for your terrible choice in car.

I know I sound delightful (*ahem*) but it was very evident I had the right of way, and this particular morning I was going to take it.
What I hadn't anticipated was the driver of the clown car FLIPPING OUT on me for making him follow common driving etiquette. He rolled down his window and started cussin me. Hard. And, since obviously that wasn't enough, flipped me off with not one, but both hands. We are literally at dead stop, playing some twisted version of chicken, so I got to see all of this in slow motion. And y'all, I don't know what it was, but his utter lack of emotional control made me pull out my go to argument winner. The Little Rascal wave. This is a staple in mine and Nate's marriage arsenal, along with punching each other in the face ...but thats old news. Honest to God, if you are ever on the losing end of a fight, do it. People don't know how to react and you'll win by running away default. Today's encounter with Yaris was no exception. Maybe he thought i did this:


Because the face he made?

Priceless.

Something about the look, combined with the knowledge that I had, with very little effort, ruined this guy's ENTIRE LIFE (at least in that moment) made me start laughing uncontrollably. You know, because I'm really mature. It's not that serious. In fact, nothing in my life is as serious as this man's stance on his morning commute.

If it makes you feel better, I let a caravan of church buses get in front of me in the go fast lane without batting an eyelash. I really am a courteous driver. I just have a zero tolerance policy for cuttsies. And truck nuts. Moral of the story? Bitches get stitches. Side stitches. And today it was from a hysterical case of the giggles. Oops.

Always,

L



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