Why you probably don't want to know me.

I wouldn't describe myself as a very reactive person, but I do wonder about the propriety of my untrammeled delight when something cosmically just occurs before my very eyes. And I wonder if my ability to think of what happened today as some form of "cosmic justice" is just a sad attempt to cover up my dark, loathsome, vindictive inner self. Probably best not to think of it like that...

I'm driving home from the supermarket on a beautiful, winding country road (read-this road is only considered two lanes because it has a stripe dividing it in half lengthwise, and certainly not because it has met any particular highway standards for proper and safe width) when a woman in a dark green minivan speeds up behind me and proceeds to use the front bumper of her car to investigate my tailpipe. She didn't hit me, but I'm unsure how she avoided it. I feel certain, if I had looked long enough in my rearview mirror, I could have not only seen the whites of her eyes, but could have counted the pores on her face as well.

I can't imagine what her hurry was. I don't believe she was in labor; if she was, she was going in the opposite direction of the hospital. I was going 55 miles per hour, 10 over the posted speed limit, but I was TOO SLOW for her. So she passes me, and zooms ahead with a speed only achievable by the notoriously rapid green Ford Windstar minivan when....

MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! She gets stuck behind a Community Transportation Bus for people with handicaps. And you know those bus drivers go the dang speed limit. Not only is she showing the folks on the bus her facial pores, but there is a double-yellow line in the road! She CANNOT pass!

When she finally can pass the bus, she seizes the opportunity, no matter that oncoming traffic from the other lane has to physically stop in the road to avoid a head-on collision. (The guy she almost hit was kind enough to signal that she was "Number 1!" in his book. Guess which finger he used?) At this point, the speed limit abruptly changes from either 35 or 45 (can't remember) to 25 miles per hour. I vividly remember when, one of our first days in Wilmore, Nolan told me to observe this change because ignoring it would most likely result in a ticket.

You can see where this is going.

She did not observe the change in speed limit, and, as I came over the hill, I saw the flashing lights. And I smiled quietly to myself.

And this, my friends, is why you probably don't want to know me.