I was on my way to host the open mic at Laughs in Kirkland, driving 0n the 520 Bridge, when some woman in a piece of shit '90's Volvo cut me off. Then I watched helplessly as the same piece of shit '90's Volvo rode every car's ass that was in front of her until they were forced to get out of her way. It drove me nuts. She wasn't even getting that far ahead because the traffic was so bad. She didn't have to ride other cars' asses. She just wanted to be a douchebag. In fact, by the time we got to the junction of 520 and 405, we were at the same spot.
She was oblivious; riding some guys ass for no reason at all. There was plenty of room for her to pass him. She just wanted to be a douchebag. The 405 exit was about a 1/4 mile ahead, when Santa Clause came early this year.
She was in the far left lane, and I was in the far right exit lane. Of course, this moron wanted to merge three lanes of traffic in a quarter mile. She shot across the two lanes, cutting yet another person off, and was right next to me.
Life is almost always against me. The coin lands on heads five times in a row. It rains on my one day off in two weeks. My section at the restaurant is full of old people and Canadians. Even the world itself spins around trying to sling me into the dark vacuum of outer space. But every once in a while, the coin bounces off an ashtray; or the clouds open up, and the sun comes out; maybe a couple of lawyers who served their way through law school come in to celebrate winning a big case. What I mean is, sometimes, very rarely, I get lucky. This was one of those times.
Douchebag Volvo sped up to pass me; so I sped up. Even my little Civic has better get up than a piece of shit '90's Volvo. So she slowed down to get behind me. I slowed down to box her out. That's right! I boxed her out! I decided that I was going to deliver a little bit of freeway justice for all of us; that this douchebag wasn't going to make this exit. She slowed down to 35 mph in a 60 mph zone trying to get behind me, but I stayed right with her. It didn't take much, because the douchebag hadn't given herself much time to get over in the first place. I boxed her out like a professional, and she missed the exit. She waled on her horn and flipped me off; and I just stared blankly back at her, as if I didn't know what was going on. I watched her screaming at me through her window, as she faded away in a beautifully sloping diagonal.
I felt vindicated. I felt righteous, like only the most inbred, brainwashed religious nuts can feel. I felt satisfied for one sparkling instant during this miserable and hopeless existence.
Judge me any way you want. Give me some excuse for her: that she was late for work; that she didn't know any better; hat she was on her way to visit sick orphans. I don't care. She was a selfish douchebag, and she got what she had coming to her, thanks to me.
You are welcome.
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