Nov 1, 2006 | Views: 340
Tater's had a weird overheating issue for the past few weeks, and after several visits to the dealer the problem was traced to a faulty gauge and fixed. After leaving the dealership, I headed down Tomball's main drag to the local tack store, as I had heard intriguing accounts of a product called Saddle Tite that would supposedly glue my butt to the slick seat of my saddle and keep me from sliding off my wild gelding when he ducks his head to grab a mouthful of grass...I mean, throws a few bucks. Sounds too good to be true, eh? Hey, just thank your lucky stars that I didn't decide to write this in haiku form.
Anyway, signalling for a left turn at the light (which was red at the time) apparently threw the man in the pickup behind me into such a rage that he lunged into the next lane. He sat there crossways until the light turned and he was able to muscle his way in and as he passed me, he roared, "You stewpid f****** c***!"
I was desperately curious to know what incited such rage, and I still wasn't able to make my turn for oncoming traffic, so I lit em up and took off after him. Sorry, tires. Sorry, transmission. Stupid traction control. I do pride myself on my driving manners, so if I broke some obscure code, I'd surely like to know about it. Not to mention the possibility that there could have been flames licking out of the side of my hood or something, what with my recent temp problems, and I'm too stewpid to figure it out by myself.
So, I had to pursue this gentleman down the road a couple of miles until I caught up with him at a green light that allowed me to pull up next to him. This pursuit involved several lane changes on his part, none of which involved a signal (maybe that's what set him off? had I broken the redneck code of eschewing the flashy lights? or maybe he was an epileptic?) At the light I was able to catch him even at, I rolled my window down and called out, "Excuse me, sir, would you like a word?"
He spit and sputtered, then choked out, "You know what, you deserved that!" Then he had a brainstorm and cried out, "You drive like a (racial slur deleted), that's what you get!"
I was unable to make any further queries due to uncontrollable laughter. It was such a bizarre, off the wall thing to say...I only wish it wasn't so offensive, or I'd incorporate that phrase into everyday usage. Drive like a ... whuuut? I can only guess it wasn't a compliment??? Maybe??? Now I'll never know what driving sin I committed. I've cussed my share of stupid drivers and hit dat horn plenty of times (although I've managed to avoid screaming insults out the window...for now), and you better believe I'd be ready to explain to someone chapter and verse what they did wrong if they pulled up next to me and civilly asked.
OMG, maybe I didn't do anything wrong at all!
On the upside, Tater's overheating issue seems to be resolved.
Oh, yeah, and I went back and got my Saddle Tite, but I haven't tried it yet.
Permanent Link to this Blog Post: