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.
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!
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