Today, a mid life crisis on wheels got super pissed at me.
I was exiting the freeway so I started slowing on the off ramp until I caught up a safe distance to the white explorer in front of me. This old dude in a mustang comes zooming up behind me all cool like that and gets to where i can’t even see his license plate in my rear view. Then he starts honking. ??? My first thought was, “oh crap did I cut him off or something?” but I had been in the exit lane for QUITE some time, so no. Anyways, we get to the frontage road and this dude does a quick right lane change and speeds off ahead of me, flipping off both me and the driver ahead of me. I end up behind him at a 4 way stop and he makes a point to come to an obnoxiously long stop. THEN he zooms off to the left and kind of swings his tail end around making this awful screeching noise.
I would like to congratulate this old guy on proving his point.
One thing is for sure: if I was a 45 year old balding dude I would totally score the cheapest new mustang money can buy (READ: base model), not even spring for a spoiler, and drive around like a complete testosterone case. I would I would I would.
Moral: if you’re going to be a complete asshole on the road, your car has to be better than mine. WAY better.
In other news: my mother emailed out a detailed inventory of the pantry. I’m supposed to mark off stuff when I use it so everyone knows it’s gone. Sure.
That’s not even the scary part. You see, I could totally picture myself doing that. I wouldn’t think it’d work, but i’d do it anyways just because i like having lists and knowing facts and being orderly. Well, sometimes. It’s like some dormant obsessive compulsive disorder that rears is awkward head once in a while turning me, slowly, into my mother.