I've noticed through the past years, that where we live there are a gazillion silver pickups with camper shells that look very much alike. In fact, it never fails that when I see one I'll think "Wow. That truck looks just like ours."
One particular day however, my thoughts were only about how late I was getting to work and what I needed to do to find a way around one of those very trucks traveling in front of me. The one that was weaving back and forth all over the road, as the driver peered lackadaisically out into the passing fields.
"Bet he's looking for birds," I thought, as I recalled what happens when it's fall, and my hunter hubby has a little time to waste on his way to the next job.
Now I think it's important to note here, that I never experienced "Road Rage" before we moved to the Treasure Valley. Probably because previously, we only lived in "small" towns" with a variety of other rural routes available to slingshot a driver around and through almost any obstacle or challenge that could make them late for whatever.
That's why it was so irritating that day. NOTHING I did made any difference at all.
I tried tailgating, honking my horn and pulling far over the left so that driver could see my glaring, angry face in his rear view mirror. In spite of it all he continued in his impassable mode down the road.
... That's when the plan began to form in my mind.
"When he becomes conscious again," I thought chuckling evilly, "I'll watch for the chance to pass. And when I do ... ...! "
... Suffice it to say that the hand gesture I practiced while I waited wasn't exactly ladylike. ... Also, since it really wasn't part of me to behave in such a way, I wasn't even sure that I had the gesture right.
Probably was a formation of fingers closer to Mr. Spock's Vulcan greeting of "Live long and prosper," than the nasty comment I wanted to convey. But no matter what, I was determined to pass it on.
... Then it happened.
The left lane suddenly opened up and I stepped on the gas. Even had the right window rolled down to insure that there was no chance the obnoxious motorist wouldn't notice what I had in mind!
There I was, the wind blowing through my hair, making me look very cool, as a sped around him, hand gesture in place. Suddenly though, I noticed the very familiar ball cap the driver was wearing.
... Quickest adjustment I've ever made in my life and worthy of some kind of an award I think ... the one that happened in a split second and erased my stern "I'll show you, you old fart" expression, to a big, warm, smile accentuated by a gesture-free, affectionate wave.
"Hi honey," I mouthed as I zoomed by my hubby, of-all-people ... and breathed a sigh of relief!
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