Last night on the way home I was Dennis Weaver's character in Spielberg's made-for-TV movie
Duel.
To get onto the interstate, I take a street that merges onto the I from the left. This is also where the interminable construction is. It's usually running slow through there. I'm a great merger. I assess the situation and decide if there is a place to slip in or if I should wait until someone lets me in. Like I said, it's moving slow there, no biggie. For some reason, people bust into that lane from the right and almost cause collisions often. I don't know if there's a sign previous saying that traffic merges from the left. I mean, we really have no choice. We're not trying to get anything over on somebody, or get just one car ahead so as to seem superior. We're just getting on the road!
Last night there was a clear entrance between some cars up front and a semi that was slowly moving forward. Plenty of room. Mr Semi Guy didn't like it. He then crossed over so no OTHER cars dared pull in front of him. He came barreling up to me when the traffic picked up and when it suddenly slowed again (as it does EVERY freaking night) he almost hit me. He lays on his horn and was riding the brake and the gas...to scare me I guess. Um, have you
met me?
Whuddever. A man who was obviously with a group of similarly marked landscaping trucks was trying to get in, from the right, and signalled. I waved him in. Mr Crazy Semi man went ballistic! I really thought he was just going to run me over for being courteous. He seemed to jack knife a bit. (Hit me, I think. I pay off my car with plenty left over for something that will get me back and forth.) We slowed again. He screams out his window "YOU FUCKING BITCH." WTF? I really had done nothing wrong except stepped on his ego that is his penis that comes in the shape of a big old semi. I obeyed all traffic rules.
Well you know me, I'd be right at home in NYC or the like. I yelled back "FUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUU." The funniest thing was this construction guy on the other side of the retaining wall just busted out laughing at me. Like he thought maybe the girl in the little yellow hippy beetle wouldn't have it in her to yell like a taxi driver. I think he thought it was awesome. I chuckled.
Traffic broke up, as it always does EVERY night, and I scooted on way ahead of him with little effort. I waved goodbye (my smartass is gonna get me shot someday) and made my way far ahead of him. If he was bitching on the radio no one took heed because all the normal truckers were courteous and, well, normal.
He was way behind me when I looked in the mirror and saw cop lights approximately where he would be. I hope he got pulled over. They announced that they were going to beef up patrol on the interstate because for a while at least 3 times a week semis were jack-knifing and turning over and causing injuries and heartache.
Still, this morning, thinking of
Duel...I kept my eyes out for an old-timey Semi, painted in a lovely primer gray, sounding like a dying calf in a hailstorm, with some maniac driving and drooling and trailing me...the truck's grill looking like Christine's older hillbilly cousin. *shudder*
It was kinda fun.
