Have you ever tried to drive into the sun and found it difficult to read street signs or tell whether the lights are red or green? Have you ever gotten lost in The Woodlands because there are no landmarks because everything – all the shopping centers, gas stations, neighborhoods, etc. – are shrouded behind lush green trees? Well …
This afternoon I’m headed southwestish on Gosling Road in The Woodlands just as the sun is setting, and my 6 month old (who missed her afternoon nap and just had her 6th month vaccines not 30 minutes earlier) is SCREAMING in the back seat. My head is killing me, it’s about 5:15, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast.
I stop at a red light – first car in line in the far left lane – at the intersection of Woodlands Drive and Gosling, when I realize that the left lane is a turning-only lane. Sadly, I needed to go straight. I hadn’t been able to see the intersection properly because the dang sun was in my eyes (and I’m slightly distracted by the high pitched wails emanating from the baby) so I am in the wrong lane.
I think, “Oh well! It’s a mistake anyone could make. Someone will surely let me over.”
I motion to the guy parallel with me at the red light. He’s driving a big white truck, and to my amusement, he looks a little bit like young Cary Elwes in The Princess Bride.
I point to the right as I mouth to him, “Can I get over?”
He looks straight at me, smirks in an irritatingly Cary Elwes sort of way, and mouths back, “No,” as he shakes his head in a pompously smarmy fashion.
I shrug my shoulders at him and mouth the words, “Why not?”
He sets his gaze stubbornly on the red lights in front of us, and begins to ignore me. However, it is clear by the look on his face that he is very smug and possibly inwardly full of rage.
At this point I’m rather taken aback. Cary Elwes is a nice person, but this man is not Cary Elwes. In fact, I’m beginning to regret insulting Elwes by thinking that this young twerp resembled him in any way, shape, or form.
I am left with two options; either this dude is a flagrant jerk, or he’s joking and secretly planning to let me in after all.
I decide, hopefully, that it must be the latter. This is, after all, Texas, where men still hold doors for women and occasionally even say, “Ma’am,” and “G’day.”
(Meanwhile, the idiot woman behind me is waving her arms around like a lunatic. I assume it’s because she’s concerned that the light is going to turn green, and that I’m going to sit there like an absentminded cow keeping her from turning left).
(Also meanwhile, the baby is still screaming).
Finally, the light turns green, and guess who hits the gas like a drag racer? Mr.-Elwes-Impersonator, that’s who! Thankfully, the kind, wonderful, generous, gracious, and merciful person behind him let me in, and the idiot woman behind me didn’t have to wait an extra second before turning left (though I’m sure the strain of worrying about it nearly gave her a brain aneurysm)
And get this! Not only did the jerk hit the gas so that I couldn’t get in front of him; he also drove so close to me that – if I hadn’t slowed way down – I would have driven into one of those pretty islands which The Woodlands planning committee likes to put in the middle of every street and cover with large trees.
I refrained from saying anything out loud because the baby was in the car, but in my head I was screaming, “Where the HELL is your TEXAS CHARM you MISERABLE WARTHOG FACED BUFFOON?!?!?!”
And THAT’s when utter disgust and embarrassment set in. As I pulled into the lane behind Mr. White Truck, I saw that he had a sticker on his back window with a Christian cross on it, and under the cross it said, “Emergency Chaplain.”
So, like any good blogger worth her salt, I took a picture while I was stopped behind him at another red light.
(See how far ahead of me his rudeness got him?)
All the way home I was thinking of super-villain names for Mr. White Truck … Reverend Road Rage was a good one … or … The Hapless Chaplain was another … but the latter sounds more like a bumbling character out of a P.G. Wodehouse book than one of Batman’s arch enemies …
Moral Of The Story #1:
If you’re going to put a Jesus related bumper sticker on your car – or any other sticker connecting you with a Christian charity or philanthropic organization – please, Please, PLEASE drive with a charitable attitude!
If you’re going to be bold enough to put a sticker on your car, know that you are REPRESENTING. Don’t drive like an angry, demonstrative, rude, reckless, idiot of the first water. When you act that way, you’re an insult and an embarrassment to the cause and philosophy you claim to support.
Moral Of The Story #2:
Don’t cut off (or EVER endanger the baby of) a Momma who happens to be an avid blogger, who is already having a rough day, and who is holding a camera equipped iPhone.
That’s funny you should write this post because I live here and today was a particular rude day for drivers in this area and I was going to write a post about where driving etiquette had gone. I notice this guy’s bumper is as crooked as his brain. But perhaps he was driving his father’s truck, the real person who is the emergency chaplain. Or maybe he’s the black sheep of the father and he’s driving his brother’s truck. Hope the baby is better.
Very true! For that matter, this fellow could have toured a local fire station and picked up a free sticker. Who knows!