Yesterday was strange.
I mean, it started off normal enough. Checking email, sending out invoices for lula, fine tuning my new music mix. Thing C had a phone interview for a writing internship at a proper magazine, so we talked about that. We talked about a girl too, he was under the impression she likes him, but she’s hard to nail down. She does work two jobs, but she’s got fingers, she could dial or text. He says he’s fine either way, but if she’s just not that into him, he’d rather she tell him than stringing him along.
I say: Girls are weird.
Then I say: Do you want me to stab her with my icepick?
He laughs, thanks me, and declines my generous offer.
We watch a little Olympic rugby before I have to leave.
I have a doctor’s appointment, with a doctor I’ve loved for over twenty years. I’m in and out quickly with little fuss.
Then on my way to meet with my favorite lularoe consultant for a little bit of inventory swapping. She and I talk a lot about inventory as we switch out items from each other’s inventory. I leave with two big blue IKEA bags bursting with “new” clothes.
I’ll be photographing and hanging them all day tomorrow.
I know what you’re thinking…None of that seems strange. (With the possible exception of me offering to stab a young woman with an icepick.)
Yeah, you’re right…but wait for it. The strange is coming…
I’m driving home through the crazy back roads between Loudoun and Prince William counties and end up at the excruciatingly long light at Lee Highway and Sudley Road, right slap in the middle of Manassas Battlefield. I’m sitting at the light behind one of those big utility trucks, on the phone with Thing 2 and suddenly, BAM!
I look up into the rearview in time to see and older man look up from his lap to see what he just ran into. (Um, that would be me.) Then…oh yeah, it gets better…than he hits me again before he can figure out which is the brake and which is the gas. Finally he puts it into reverse.
I am LIVID! I mean breathing fire livid! That bastard rolls down his window and waves at me. And that’s when I began to curse.
No damage to the car, and I honestly don’t have the energy to get into it with this guy. Let’s just say he’s lucky I didn’t have my icepick in the car.
Over all I’m fine, just really sore.
Consider this my PSA (sans guitar)
Don’t text while you’re driving. Even if you’re rolling to a stop light. Keep your eyes on the road. That’s just common sense, people.
And to the man who hit me, learn your pedals! The long skinny one on the right is for going, the wide one on the left is for stopping.
You’re a dick.
Next time, if there is ever a next time, just call the cops, and let them shoot him. The sue the widow.