Deadly Weapon Jack Chesley

Well, summer's here in force and it's hot. Tempers rise along with the temperature and sometimes things reach the boiling point. One hot August afternoon, some guy in an UGLY car (huge, bulbous, American tank) lumbered down the shoulder and forced his way in front of me in rush hour traffic instead of blending in at the entrance ramp. I beeped at him in recognition of his stupidity and he waved obscene gestures at me, which I gleefully returned.

I guess he saw that as a threat to his masculinity in some macho car game, since he stopped dead in the middle of the road, thereby blocking me (and about 3000 other cars behind me) completely (1 point for him?) When he showed no intention of moving, I nipped around him on the shoulder and back into traffic, figuring the score was even, 1 to 1, and that was the end of it.

Wrong. He had an UGLY temper as well as a 2 ton deadly weapon and they were both aimed at me! He played chicken trying to force his way back in front of me as his lane ended. But I can play car games too, and when the shoulder ended, he got in line behind me (1 point for me). Then he followed me. He followed me into the driveway of the camp where I picked up my son, and he waited. He followed me out the driveway and back down the road. At this point, I started getting pretty nervous.

When the road opened into 2 lanes again, he roared around me on the left, pulled diagonally across my lane and stopped, trying to make me run into him or off the road. I braked, hard, and got around him again, but this was now getting really nasty and NOT a game anymore. Especially when I had a child in the car and he knew it. I stopped counting points and accelerated down the road, looking for a cop (why can you NEVER get a speeding ticket when you REALLY need one?.

He came after me again and started to pass me in the left lane... and I stood on the brakes and hung a 90 degree right angle turn as he disappeared down the road with no place to go. Oooh, that felt GOOD. Point and match. Chalk one up for brakes and handling over brute horsepower and let's go home.

I have no idea what kind of car the guy had or what he looked like. Just one more nondescript machine on the road, distinguished only by the fact that the owner had tried to kill me. It occurs to me though,that somewhere out there is a faceless enemy who probably WILL remember a little green convertible that got away.

I worry about that. Maybe next time I won't beep. The next road may not have a turn in time. The next deadly weapon may be a gun instead of a Chevy. Some games are just not worth playing. Think about it.

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1996