I suffered from road-rage for the first time this morning since trying to parallel park during my driver’s training exam. I was heading east approaching an intersection with a red light that requires stopping if one were going straight or waiting to turn left. It also had an optional lane to turn right, but with a yield sign. That’s the direction I was going. However, most people end up stopping at the yield sign because there is so much north to south traffic during peak hours, and that direction usually has a green light through the intersection. I was no different and stopped at the yield, while the car behind me must have wanted to smell my behind. Either that, or push me onto oncoming traffic using me as a lead blocker while he drives to daylight. Yes, he was that uncomfortably close to my tail.
Do you notice that when you are approaching a yield while looking at a red light, your automatic first tendency is to stop, and then while focusing on the traffic far into the distance you are not even aware that the closer oncoming traffic has started to slow down because the north-south lights have turned yellow? That was my mistake. I was a half-second slow in anticipating that our light was about to turn green, which meant not having to stop at the yield, and this really antagonized the car behind me, as evident by his 5 second prolonged honk.
Once I got out of his way, he flew by me while making the requisite body and fingering gesticulations that you would expect. Once in front of my car, he started signaling both left and right enough times for a disco and, just to leave no doubts, started zig zagging his vehicle side to side, in and out of both lanes as if on a dance floor. Or maybe he was mimicking a boxer hopping around in all directions getting ready for a fight.
Of course all his time spent on his moves and not going in a straight line meant I would end up catching up to him at the next set of red lights and stopped right beside him. This gave him an even more direct, almost face-to-face, opportunity to vent, go red, and even open his door halfway with one leg sticking out. Was it a bluff? Should I have called the potential bluff? I just couldn’t make a decision and procrastinated in anguish. I couldn’t act. In this case the traffic lights forced me to act. They turned green, I turned into the road leading to my work parking lot, while the disco dancer/driver/boxer desperately tried to get himself back into his car as the vehicles behind him went into a chorus of honking.
I apologize for my road-rage displayed this morning and am writing this blog to provide evidence in case I have to turn myself in.