Playing Chicken

Most days, on my way to pick up my daughter from school, I take a bypass road that joins the little two lane highway that nearly circumvolves our island . When traffic is heavy, it is the local custom for someone on the highway to allow someone from the bypass to merge between themselves and the next car on the highway. Pretty much common courtesy everywhere in heavy traffic.

Well today the person that I would have expected to allow me onto the highway did not. I accelerated to get in front of the guy, he swerved around me to stay in front. I inched closer, he inched even closer. We played some chicken, and he won. Slightly annoying, but nothing was dented.

I have my business phone number on the back of my truck. The guy who was on the highway behind this person – the guy I eventually got in front of – was offended on behalf of the person who denied me the usual courtesy and called me up from his truck to call me a trucking gasmole. Or something that rhymes. I asked him to repeat it, he said nothing. I wished him a good day and hung up. They both exited at the next street.

Since I now have the phone number of the person who cursed me, I’m tempted to make phone calls at odd hours (from phones with blocked numbers) and just be annoying for a while. So I can really earn the name he called me.

But I won’t. It might be fun to have an evil twin, but I don’t want to be the evil twin.

About mutecypher

Old. Bold. Deal with it.
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One Response to Playing Chicken

  1. Steve says:

    What I love about the local’s driving habits around here is that they will run a stop sign to pull out in front of you, then drive slow, usually 5-10 mph below the speed limit. If you reach a passing lane, they will speed up, even exceeding the speed limit, to keep you from passing, then slow down below the speed limit again. I have no idea what’s going through their minds.

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