V.R.R.A

I had something much more important to blog about, but I'd rather talk about how some guy was a total tampon, driving recklessly on the highway.

I was making my merry way down Interstate 57 toward Charleston (almost exactly like Kankakee County), IL to visit my engaging friend Andy Baldwin at Eastern Illinois University. From Bourbonnais, it's quite the trek. Going 90 mph, I could cut the trip by at least a half an hour. So, I was driving at a pretty steady pace, hoping to make the basketball game in the nick of time. About twenty minutes into my mission, I come up on a gigantic boat of a car. Happily, I found he was going at least 85, but there was enough room for me to get around him. I pass the behemouth red Cadillac and continue my pace. Two minutes later, he speeds up and swerves in front of me, almost hitting my car while cutting me off and barely missing the one inches away from him in the right lane

I'm thinking, "Really?? Are you serious?", and in a moment of frustrated driving, I went to make an unkind gesture at him because he's decided to slow down to 70. I get back in the right lane, thinking there's enough open road in front of me to pass him again. He goes just fast enough to stay beside me and to ensure that my car gets boxed in by the next vehicle in front of me.

Anybody who knows me should know that the next words out of my mouth were "oh, it's on!". I get back behind him in the left lane for a few more miles of 70 mph driving, until we pass up the other cars that I can't believe could possibly go any slower than we were.

Now it's just me, this insane man (with a car full of passengers), and miles of outstretched, open highway. I get back in the right lane. We hit 80, then 90, then finally 105. His whale was humming along just fine at these high speeds, thanks to the laws of inertia, but my poor little Malibu was practically begging for me to have some common sense.

At 105 mph, my brain turned back on, and I let him triumphantly pull away from me and cut me off again. (I'm telling you, he was outside of his mind.) Not five minutes later, we see blue and red lights on the other side of the highway. Two miles away from them, another pair, and a State Policeman idling in the turnabout, waiting to pull someone else over. Of course, we conformed to the speed limit. I sure didn't want a ticket. The cop pulled onto the highway to follow us.

This is when I happily realized that my friend in the red Cadillac didn't have a license plate on his rear bumper. Laughing perhaps a bit too spitefully to myself, I got into the left lane and passed him and a truck, allowing the cop full view of that moron's bumper.

Payback is a biiiiiitch.

I may just consider starting a club. Victims of Road Rage Anonymous, or is there already an organization against idiots?