Dear Mr. Mean Guy
Dear Mr. Mean Guy who drives a red Ford Expedition, tag # 2004WS:
Did you have a bad day? Are you normally arrogant? Is that how you usually drive? And was it necessary to act as you did?
You flew up into my rear view. I was driving at the posted limit, my travel cat in the cab. We enjoyed our ride til you came along. I continued my drive as you got closer and closer, scaring the heck out of me. I thought maybe you were distracted, so I waved in a kind of “shoo” motion, in hope you’d see it and catch yourself. Nope. YOU sped UP, til you ticked my rear bumper. Nice. That made the whole car shudder, scaring the cat. Heck, it scared me too! I slowed then and you kept on with your aggressive idiocy, ticking me once more and scaring us terribly. Finally you decided to pass. I’d hoped you’d see that I wasn’t alone, that there was an innocent riding with me, but you didn’t care. I attempted to point him out to you, but you wouldn’t even look where I pointed. You’re clearly the most important thing existing. Then you threw something at my car! No damages, whatever you threw MISSED. I rang the police and followed you a few miles past my turn while speaking with them then gave up, and told them I was going home. Police weren’t going to do anything. They cheerfully took your tag # and vehicle description and had me trail you with no intention of following up. You knew that. You get away with stuff like this all the time.
I noticed that you picked a person who is physically littler than you. I noticed that the car I was driving is much littler than your great honkin Eddie Bauer Red Ford Expedition.
Would you dare to pick on someone your own size?
Well. You can’t ruin my day. My cat and I are home safe in spite of you. You’ll carry on with your nastiness until you actually hurt someone. I hope you can live with yourself. I have the fun of putting this incident on my blog. I do love to write about my everyday existence.
Oh. Are you not aware that a license tag is a form of identification?
You can scare me all you want on the road but the last thing I will do before the crash is take a picture of you aiming at me. Then, maybe, I’ll forgive you. I’m supposed to, you see. I guess it’s pointless to exit life with a grudge on. So. I forgive you this very minute for making my drive toward home so frightening. I forgive you for scaring my cat too. He may not forgive you though. He may have lost his delight in car rides because you were mean to us.
Yep. It takes a big important guy like you to frighten a woman and a cat.
