Ride of our lives
Sweet Jesus.
Shan and I were just followed for three miles by some jackass in a burgundy Ford Expedition with Michigan plates. All we remember is that the plate had CT in it.
We were merging into traffic, and this asshole cut her off. So she got behind him and flipped him off. He waved at us. Typical motorist exchange, right?
Nope. We tried to merge into the lane next to us — to get away from him as well as to be in the right lane to get us back to work. So he drifted over with us, with no turn signal. We jumped over one more lane, and the same thing happened — he got over with no signal. So he kept driving and we were behind him before, once again, getting into the right-hand lane, which we needed.
So jagoff cuts straight in front of us, speeds up, throws the SUV in park across two lanes, and comes stomping over to our car. Shan was driving, and she threw it in reverse — we were fucking lucky that no one was immediately behind us. He was two feet from the car, at which point I thought she was going to go forward and hit him, but instead, she did a big fat U-Turn and zipped around to Van Dorn Station.
Wouldn’t you know that sonofabitch followed us? We weaved in and out of spots in front of Safeway before flying straight out into traffic on Van Dorn. We ended up going to her condo complex, which has amazing security. Asshole drove up behind us to the gate, but he couldn’t get in. We were safe. Whew.
John drove us back to work and is probably out hunting the motherfucker down. I decided that I need to stop playing around with skinny white boys and get me a big boy like John. If ever the guys I date would get in an argument with a guy like John, I would have a better chance of beating him up than my guys. 😉 Sad but true. Heh. I need somebody who can rescue me (*warning: Snow White complex surfacing!*), ’cause I’m already skilled at rescuing myself.
At any rate, our heart rates have calmed down, and I’m in for the long haul — looks like I’ll be here till 9 a.m. tomorrow, getting the fucking paper finished. And now Demure has a problem with a last-minute story I inserted into this gaping hole that I have in the paper. (God, I wish I had something to insert in my own *gaping hole.*) At least we had a few minutes of excitement in our miserable days!!!