Yesterday, I was driving a car into St. Louis to make another delivery. It was pouring rain, and I was trying very hard to find a branch of my bank so I could deposit my check and get some cash. I had found the directions on Mapquest, but was finding it difficult to follow them in this torrential downpour.
Just a few blocks before I reached the bank, a Camaro turned from a side street right in front of me and crept along at 5mph. Now I know it’s a good idea to slow down when the roads are slick, but this was ridiculous. When the left turn lane opened up, I steered into it quickly. About the time I was side by side with the Camaro, it decided to cut over across the striped median into the left turn lane where I was. I honked to alert the driver that I was there and they were about to hit me, and the car slammed on its brakes.
When I got into the parking lot, I found a spot as close as possible to the door. I had to run for it, yet still I got drenched. I saw a woman running up as I opened the door, so I decided to be polite and hold the door for her. She stopped in front of me and pointed her finger in my face. “I hate you!”
“Beg pardon?”
“I hate you, and all people like you. But what goes around comes around, you cut me off and now I’m going to cut you off and get into the building first. HA!” She ran in before me.
“What exactly are you talking about?”
“You know what you did, don’t act so surprised.”
“I’m honestly confused.”
“Don’t play dumb. Karma is going to descend on you and bite you in the butt.”
“Can you tell me what I did wrong?”
“You cut me and my Camaro off when I tried to get into the left lane.”
“Excuse me, but you almost hit me, and came across the painted striped median to do it.”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear any more of your lies! I hate people who drive Toyotas like you.”
“I am driving a Ford Fusion.”
“Don’t you try to change the subject! You know what you did, and you should be ashamed of yourself.”
“I don’t want any hard feelings here, but—“
“Please just shut your mouth, you’re embarrassing yourself. I’ve got a good mind to slap your face.”
“If I did anything to offend you, then I sincerely apologize. I’m all for peace and harmony on the highways.”
“You are a sick, twisted man. And I’ve heard just about enough from you.”
“But—“ She interrupted me by raising her hands over her head and lifting one foot high in the air. I thought perhaps she was attempting a bizarre martial arts move. In fact, it sort of reminded me of the ‘Crane’ move from the original KARATE KID movie. She held her foot precariously close to my face.
“Talk to the foot,” she said.
I was truly baffled. “What?”
She put her foot down and became very emotional. “People like you just think you own the world, that you’re king of the universe. You make me want to vomit. I don’t talk to people like you. Now go away and leave me the hell alone!” She stormed off and went down the hall into the bank. I gave her a good head start, and then went into the bank myself and stood at the counter to fill out my deposit slip. She was standing at a Teller Window, yammering on about the mean SOB who had cut her off and then spoken to her disrespectfully out in the hall.
I tried to lay low, but as she was walking out she saw me. She reached into her purse and pulled out a whistle, and began blowing it loudly. “Karma police, karma police! There’s a bad driver here who needs to be taught a lesson.” She leaned in close to me and spoke ominously. “I can promise you that I will never forget you, Mister.”
Oddly enough, I don’t think I’ll ever forget her either.
I think the Karma Police did pay a visit to the bank that day, except to visit her. She didn't realize it was you. And you were playing "good cop!"
ReplyDeleteummmm....... wow. Sounds like a florida driver. You were much more patient with that lady than I would have been, that's for sure.
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