Yes, folks. I am irritated.
My otherwise pleasant day ended on a frustrating note, which included a lecture on how things should be done. And the thing is, I could not agree more. I myself have given the very same lecture, and that is what frustrates me the most. Stupid mistakes that shouldn’t have been made. That I know better than to make. I wasn’t paying attention, which is why it happened, and I have no one to blame but myself.
The ride home only compounded my frustration. The part of my car that runs the heat is connected by duct tape. Every once in a while the tape loses it’s stickiness and I have to reattach the part. Today, in the freezing temperatures, the part fell off and I had no heat. I pulled over in a gas station to fix it and I thought my fingers were going to fall off. Fall off.
Once I got back on Ontario Street, it took about twenty-five minutes to go the three blocks to get on the expressway. I immediately got off the expressway and took Augustana west to get home. The problem is it snowed during rush hour, not allowing the salt trucks enough time to clear the roads so it was all slippery. I was following a late model car. One of those boxy numbers that looks like an old cop car or one of those cars on “Pimp my Ride”. Because of my car accident this summer, I am super-paranoid about being rear-ended. This, combined with the snowy roads, meant I was giving plenty of space to the car in front of me - at least one to one and a half car lengths. On the side streets of Chicago, this is more than generous. I was surprised to see the car in front of me stop at a green light. I was a little over a half block away, so when I caught up, so I was even more surprised when the boxy car floored the gas, slipping and sliding as he tore off.
Wait a minute. Was he trying to make me miss the green light? If so, why? I had to catch up with him in order for him to try and ditch me at the light.
When I got to my turn on Western Avenue, I pulled up next to him. I was hoping a peek would give me insight on the earlier curious behavior. As I turned to look at him, I found out it was an elderly man driving the car. An elderly man who was cursing me out? Yes. In fact, he was cursing me out. I looked at him strangely. “I don’t even know what you are talking about!” I exclaimed, as my own paranoia about the inclement weather prevented me from doing anything even remotely dangerous or questionable. “Oh yeah right,” was his response and he continued on cursing me out. I turned my head forward and kept it there, not wanting to engage this crazy old man further.
As I sat there, I fumed. Why are people so mean? I didn’t do anything. I would tell you if I did.