***UPDATE - Sunday afternoon. I was telling my sisters about my Saturday morning and basically relaying this post. When I get to this line"Yes, but I have questions and I'll wait my fuckin' turn!", I dropped my voice low and subsituted "F". My mother, who I did not think was listening said "Did you write that in the blog!?" Then I got the "disappointed" look. It stings*******
I got up this morning and had some errands to run. So, the first "hmm" was at the top of the lane where the side exiting onto the main road widens so the "left-hand-turn" people can move over and ....GET OUT OF MY WAY. Car in front of me is solidly in the middle. No problem, the sidewalk doesn't have a true curb and I pass them on the right anyway. Next, as I passed over the highway I watch a truck run the red arrow light and cause the southbound car to brake. Interesting. Next, a big SUV is inching into traffic to take a left from a restaurant parking lot on my right. The problem? She has a red light. Needless to say, she doesn't get in front of me. Yes, yes, I know, aggressive driving is bad, whatever. You can't be surprised the I am an aggressive drive, can you?
Anyway, so I get to the strip mall that is my first destination. It's a right turn for me and there is a vehicle waiting to turn left into the same mall. I slow, my signal on (I am aggressive, but my car has turn signals and I use them, properly I might add, ahead of my turn by 100 feet, not as I turn). Does he turn? No. I slow more and give the wave. Does he turn? No. I flash my lights. Does he turn? No.....fuck 'em. I turn and leave him waiting. Once in the strip mall I drive down to the dry cleaners. I park in the area literally marked "service area". It is two spots in front of the building. I get out and walk around the SUV parked in front of the door in the fire lane. As the young lady is making my pick up slip for the new red silk blouse I am dropping off for cleaning....in comes Mr. SUV. He does not wait behind me, he moves up beside me to the opening in the counter for big bags. "Just dropping off?" the clerk chirps. "Yes...." and then launches into a conversation. Hey, asshat....she's waiting on me. "Just drop off?" should be answered with "Yes" and you leave or "Yes, but I have questions and I'll wait my fuckin' turn!" But he keeps talking, mostly nonsense about stains in his jacket and how much this will cost and she prints my slip. I turn to leave and he moves to leave ahead of me. He holds the door but then stands in my way. I have to walk around him so that I may walk around his fat ass SUV which, have I mentioned is in the fucking fire lane? Oh, I did. Anyway, at this point he turns to smile and try to strike up a conversation. are you fucking kidding me? He gets the eyebrow, I don't respond and I walk to my legally parked vehicle. Mr. SUV drives away ahead of me (Of course! His vehicle was closer!) and as we approach a bottleneck in the parking lot, parked vehicles on either side he stops.
What. The. F!
He inches slowly forward and I turn into a parking spot and pass him. Aggressively. Noisily. Unneccesarily gunning the motor. On the right. Asshat.
I am in work now. Door is locked.
I can't be me. Nothing is ever my fault.