PET PEEVES...It's called MERGING...

Dear Fetus driving the newish white Altima in front of me today that nearly got us both killed:

Glad I was on my way home at lunch, because that's where I keep fresh pairs of panties. I hate to admit this to you, but I very nearly crapped my pants following behind you while we attempted to merge onto the Interstate from Indiana Avenue. Gratefully, my butt puckered up like Fort Knox, or I would have been REALLY mad at you.

I can't be certain, but you seem unaware that one of the key elements of merging onto an interstate, is that you use the looong length of the merging roadway to gain speed in order to match that of traffic already on the interstate. The idea is to blend in seamlessly. At 3/4 of the way down the merge lane, and we had just gotten up to 35MPH, I broke into a cold sweat. When we finally made it onto I20, we were going a whopping 38 miles per hour. Thirty-eight. OMG, we are gonna die. My cold sweat turned into a stomach cramp that can only produce BAD THINGS.

In almost 25 years of driving, I have never had to pass someone in a right-hand emergency lane, but you didn't even look over when I did it to see me flipping you the bird. Imagine my surprise...when I saw that not only were you a fetus (thank you Mitzi for that one!), but you were TEXTING.

That's right...texting!! While merging onto a busy interstate. In the words of my father: Have you lost your mind?

No offense, but you are a moron, plain and simple.

Nah, I am selling both of us short with that last statement.

I DO mean to offend you by saying that you are so much more than a moron, but I can't put that sort of language in here; it should be noted that I still feel like strangling you some four hours later. I wish that I had the foresight to have gotten your license plate number because I would pay a visit to your parents, and let them do their own share of strangling. However, I was too busy trying to keep myself from having an accident, both literally, and figuratively.

Although I do not know your name, I do know that this is a small town and somehow, I have to hope that you will end up reading this or at the very least hearing about it. If you ever see a dark blue 4-Runner with a crazy eyed looking lady driving past you, giving you the finger, now you know why.

Regards,

Damyankee