Wednesday, October 10, 2007

S Gives Truck Driver Taste of His Own Medicine, He is Presumably Chagrined

In the Days of Yore, when the DNB and I were deep in the thros of our budding romance, our relationship was long-distance. Every other weekend, one or the other of us would drive 12 hours round trip so we could spend 36 hours together. Looking back, WHAT WERE WE THINKING?

During this two year period, I grew to hate truck drivers. Not all of them, but a good 80-98%, roughly. I try to respect trucks, realizing that their length and weight make them more difficult to drive than a passenger vehicle. And in return, truck drivers try to see my boobs.

The worst part of the drive was the trip through Louisville. Of the two years I spent regularly driving through the city, my main route was under construction for one year and 360 days. I was usually on edge, traffic was busy, and I had witnessed a car accident immediately in front of me during a past trip.

Which is why I did not need some Pervert Truck Driver making obscene gestures at me as we approached the south side of the city. To clarify, because that was a figure of speech, there is NO POINT at which I will need some Pervert Truck Driver making obscene gestures at me.

He pulled up beside me and formed his hands into a symbol which indicated that he was hoping for some action of the type Mommies and Daddies engage in. Noticing, I steadfastly and disgustedly ignored him. Still hopeful, perhaps because of the endless stream of willing women this type of behavior producesNOT, he drove immediately to my right as we headed into the downtown traffic. When I slowed, he slowed. When I sped up, he sped up. When I moved, he moved (just like that). And so on.

I was considering calling the police, or at least the "How Am I Driving?" number on the side of his cab--NOT WELL--when I spotted my opportunity to both solve the problem and teach the Pervert Truck Driver a lesson. I do love a 2-for-1.

Ahead, a large sign proclaimed that Pervert Truck Driver's lane was soon to become an EXIT ONLY onto another major interstate. I could tell when he noticed because he suddenly tried to pull away from me.

"I don't think so," I said with a smile, speeding up to remain beside him. "I thought you wanted us to be Lane Buddies."

As the interchange loomed, Pervert Truck Driver alternately slowed and sped, trying unsuccessfully to make his way into my lane. When it was nearly too late for him, I waved and zoomed ahead. Truck bumping, he swerved in time and followed slowly, far behind me.

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