I might have had a relapse from my apparently chronic case of Old Rage last week. A relapse that allowed good nature to override the Old Rage.
was driving home from the Gas Station Chicken Store with my precious 44
oz Diet Coke, approaching the clustercluck intersection between Orb K
on the right, and the Save-A-Lot/Subway/Dollar Store mini-mall on the
left. No lights. Just a left turn lane for those Save-A-Lot bound. It's
really hard to get out of Orb K and that mini-mall. I always plan my own
errands to allow a right turn out of each lot, to lessen the confusion
of that clucking intersection.
There I was, rolling
along at the legal speed limit of 30 mph, when a car started to creep
out from Orb K's lot. Sometimes they do this. Get their bumper right up
to the roadway, ready to peel out of there when the coast is clear. I
took my right foot off T-Hoe's gas pedal, and held it poised over the
brake pedal. Just in case.
Sweet Gummi Mary! The
mid-size silver sedan nosed out into my lane, and stopped! The old lady
behind the wheel was looking right at me. Frozen. Like a deer in the headlights. Her mouth an "O" of
surprise. She reminded me of Vicki Lawrence as "Mama" on Mama's Family. And that face in The Scream.
wasn't even mad! I slowed down and checked my mirror for left-turners,
and inched T-Hoe around the front end of that silver sedan by using the
left-turn lane. Nothing was stuck in my craw. Not a drop of rain hit my
Taking Home the Magical Elixir Parade. My granny panties clung to my
ample rumpus smoothly, unwadded. I didn't even mutter profanities. I
know how hard it is to get out of there, especially if you're
Yeah. I had a momentary relapse from my Old Rage.