I'm Not Angry you Jackass!

Triple S says I'm an angry person.  All because I yelled at some nob in a topless jeep who spent the entire red light fixing his hair before driving away again.

What was the point? Seriously. And I didn't really yell at him as much as I questioned the point of the mirror check in a sarcastic and snotty tone.

He's so silly. That wasn't anger.

I haven't been angry for at least a week. Not since I went to the wrong place for Natalie's rehearsal and was forced to drive all the way across town during rush hour.

The Princess learned a lot of colorful language that day.

Hold on.

Wheels are turning in my brain. Maybe Super Supportive Scott has a point?

He's a little confused about the details but he might actually be right.

I'm an Angry Driver. Not an Angry Person.

I blame this on Long Island. It's the place I learned to drive in a tiny car with a giant man. (poor Mr. Sackman. It's cruel to make any man over 6 feet sit in an Escort. It should be considered torture to do it to a man while he is teaching drivers ed.)

Never mind about the giant man though.

You cant learn to drive in New York and remain a mellow driver. Well maybe a saint can but I'm pretty sure we all know I'm not a saint.

Triple S will tell you I'm not a good driver but I think he is wrong. (Of course I think that, no one things they are a bad driver, even the truly awful ones.)

I'm a very good driver (just like Rainman). Perhaps I drive a bit fast and perhaps I'm a bit aggressive.

Perhaps. But it isn't my fault that I have places to go and other people seem to be moving at a snails pace.

The south is mellowing me. Slowly but surely they are assimilating me (just like the borg) but I refuse to lose the part of me that loves being first off the red light.

So suck it slow southern drivers. I'm staying angry!


Popular posts from this blog

The End of Summer: a Tale of Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Sick AF

School is about to Start!