Hope that post title caught your attention! It's true. And if you're skeptical, just read on.
This morning I made an unscheduled trip to my local Dunkin' Donuts for a
heart-clogging treat breakfast sandwich & coffee. The drive-through line appeared a bit shorter than the mass of people inside clamoring for sustenance of the sugary sort, so I decided to remain in my automobile and continue listening to my podcast of Spider on the Web. There were about four cars in front of me waiting to spout orders to the faceless speaker box that consistently garbles my orders, but the one that drew my attention was the one just before me in line – a black sporty Saturn coupe.
The woman within was obviously in a hurry – I mean, after all, who else would simultaneously be applying makeup, talking on a cell phone, AND honking their horn at the car ahead of them (indicating it should move up to close the half-car gap between it and the car in front of it)? I guess the guy in the old piece-of-crap car decided she was in a hurry, too, and that she deserved to take his spot. Because he backed up, bumping squarely into her front bumper, and then pulled out around the other cars in line, apparently intent on leaving the line and presumably, the lot.
As you might expect, Ms. Patience took umbrage to this action, and peeled out after the beater, honking her horn incessantly to flag him down. Whether she planned to extract revenge with a pair of tweezers or a call to her lawyer I could not say, but the look of determination on her face as she zipped around the building made me sure she would achieve her goal, whatever it was.
A movement in my rear-view mirror caught my eye and I looked back to see Mr. Fed-Up circle around and pull into a handicapped spot at a diagonal, Ms. Patience hot on his heels. She pulled her car up behind him so the nose of her car was blocking him in, and started lowering her window to give him a piece of her mind. What she planned to say next was quickly driven from her mind as she watched Mr. Fed-Up put his car into reverse, back up directly into the front corner of her car hard enough to make both cars rock on their wheels, and then pull in more-or-less straight into one of the parking spots.
It was at this point that the two participants in this little automobile ballet got out of their cars and confronted each other. I paused long enough to make sure they were going to interact verbally instead of physically, and just about the time I saw Ms. Patience get on her phone to call the police, I had to pull forward (and out of line-of-sight) in order to give my own breakfast order.
I made sure to circle the building once more after I got my food a few minutes later, checking to make sure that neither one was going to go postal on the other. Ms. Patience had pulled into another parking space and was sitting patiently, waiting for the police. Mr. Fed-Up appeared to have gone inside, probably thinking that if he had to sit around waiting for the police to show up, he might as well do it with a coffee & donut in hand. I hope he bought an extra half-dozen for the responding officer(s) – it probably wouldn't help his case any, but at least it wouldn't hurt it.
As I drove off, I couldn't help but think about how strong the addiction to caffeine can be. Before their morning cuppa joe, most people are sleepy, irate, dazed, slow, or depressed, and more often than not, all of the above. And then, I wonder just how many accidents or attacks of road rage like the one I experienced this morning could have been easily avoided with the judicious application of a decent cup of Maxwell House.