Horn Broken, Watch For Finger.

An Oldie but a Goodie. I wrote this about two years ago. Oh, and for those who didn't know me two years ago, I tended to speak my mind a little more... um, boisterously. Yeah, that's the right word. *ahem* Ok, Enjoy!

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In Washington state it is common knowledge that honking your horn is TOTALLY RUDE. Even if someone were to cut you off or push you out of your lane, you just slow down and look appalled. And that’s pretty much it. Yeah, who would’ve thought so many people liked to take it in the butt?


(The hell it doesn’t!)
I personally prefer to use every resource available in order to express my surprise and frustration when such events happen to me. I was able to overcome this absurd “silent rule” us Westies cling to when I moved to the east coast a few years back. And trust me, when you live in a part of the country that is so saturated with crazy drivers you learn to cope. When in Rome, right? So, I adapted and learned how to be an offensive driver. And after having a little old blue-haired lady go through all the trouble of cranking down her driver’s side window just to stick her knobby old fist out to flip me off, I realized that I’d succeeded when my only reaction was to laugh. I mean, who would’ve thought?


(Yeah, sorta like this, only the grumpy ol’ biddy had a fro of curly blue hair.)

Like I said, I just learned how to deal with it. And by that I mean I learned how to ignore it. Nowadays I could give a rat’s ass about someone blowing their horn at me. But after moving back to the Great Northwest, where everyone drives as though they are gossiping (they’re courteous to your face but really they’re figuring out the next best way to stab you in the back), I was reminded that people aren’t quite as aggressive behind the wheel as they tend to be out east.


(Beware of little old biddys with revenge on their minds!)

Or maybe it’s not that they’re less aggressive. Maybe it’s just that they don’t feel the dire need to express their frustrations the way I learned to out east. That being a loud laying-on-of-the-horn followed by a token shouting of, “WHAT THE HELL?!” accompanied by hand gestures that only Italian-Americans seemed to have perfected.


(Ok, so they’re not angry in this pic, but you get the idea. I love how Italian-Americans are so expressive, especially with their arms/hands.)

So, having lived in New York AND New Jersey for so long, I managed to toughen up a bit and grew thicker skin, so to speak. Not a whole lot… heaven knows I’m still a total softie and wimp-noodle inside. But let’s just say that I don’t take as much crap as I used to.


(Wow! As much middle finger as a person could ever dream of!!)


Which brings us to today. Here’s the story.

I was pulling up to the Starbucks drive-thru I always go to. I had the right-of-way, seeing that it was a right turn for me to take to get in line, vs. the left turn that a soccer mom in a giant SUV had to take. We had arrived at the same time and since she stopped I proceeded to get in line. Well, apparently she’s one of those “polite” Westy drivers (see description above). Even though she had stopped to allow me the right-of-way she became irate when I took my place in line ahead of her. Mind you, it’s not like it was a busy time of day. There was a small line but nothing like I’ve seen in the past.

So, because she was pissed off at me she decided to honk the horn at me (just briefly, not even a laying-on-of-the-horn like I’m prone to). I looked at her thinking, “oh, uh-uh!” She was shaking her head at me with a look on her face that was supposed to be of disapproval, but more looked like she was constipated. When she pulled in behind me, I continued to stare at her through my side-view mirror. It wasn’t a friendly stare. It was more of an “oh no you DI’NT!” stare in which I was just daring her to continue with her childish behavior. She saw the look I gave her and, although she was still shaking her head, she avoided my glare by looking down. Ha! Rookie.


(A true soccer mom, she didn’t like me getting in the way of her goal: Starbucks.)

So I sat there in line ahead of her thinking, “What a hoochie!” And I watched her inch up on the butt of my Jeep. And then a truly wicked thought creeped into my head. “Oooh…,” I thought, “I’ll show HER!”

What was this devious plan I was so amused to contrive? Oh, I was going to make her M-A-D! Tee-hee!! I knew that by then she was about ready to shoot me, especially considering how long it took for me to get my drink and load my Starbucks card and pay for everything. Little did she know that I paid for all four of her drinks.

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!

Take that! I know that would’ve only irritated her because she’d have to stop thinking mean thoughts toward me and come to the harsh realization that I was just another person going about my daily business just like she was. SO THERE!

I drove off with my triple espresso con panna in hand and a smirk on my face. She never knew what hit her.