Well, it was bound to happen. In a city of millions of drivers, narrow streets and crazy cabbies, it was inevitable that I would hit someone or something with my car.
And I did.
In a city where people are frustrated sitting in traffic and the sounds of honking horns are commonplace, I was bound to get into a road rage incident.
And I did.
All of this in one week too! Sheesh.
Yesterday I had to drive to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get a bridal shower gift. As you loyal blog followers know, driving in a city is as scary for me as speaking in front of a thousand people. My heart pounds, my 'pits are sweaty and I'm constantly talking to myself, saying things like "Watch out buddy!" "Where did you come from?!" It ain't pretty.
As I was coming home I had to take the dreaded North Avenue. It's Lincoln Park's busiest/craziest street. As soon as I got on, a man cut me off, but that's pretty common, so I didn't do anything about it. I did however, when he subsequently slammed on his brakes at a light, and I nearly rear-ended him. The light was greenish/yellowish, and I was counting on him and I to both make it through. So, I did what's only natural. I honked.
Then I see his car door fly open. Uh-oh. (I'm hoping he doesn't have a gun.) In a thick accent, he proceeds to yell, "What the (bleep)? The light itsh red, so I stop. Thesh people, they has to cross street, so I stop. What you want me to do, hit them? What the (bleep) lady??" People on the street all stopped to watch this display.
The funny thing is-- in true big city form, he never looked me in the eye. I was to his east, and he looked south the whole time as he yelled. (If he had a gun, this would be a good thing because without looking at me, I bet his aim would be pretty bad.)
Now you're asking, why the nasty scrape on your car? Oh, that's because parking garages in Chicago were made for my niece's Barbie car, not SUV's. There is no room, so as I was leaving a dentist appointment and had to exit out the midget-sized door, I scraped the side of my car, taking with me white paint from the garage.
Sheesh. And to add insult to injury, gas is now $4.49 in the city.
I guess I'll stick to walking.
And I did.
In a city where people are frustrated sitting in traffic and the sounds of honking horns are commonplace, I was bound to get into a road rage incident.
And I did.
All of this in one week too! Sheesh.
Yesterday I had to drive to Bed, Bath and Beyond to get a bridal shower gift. As you loyal blog followers know, driving in a city is as scary for me as speaking in front of a thousand people. My heart pounds, my 'pits are sweaty and I'm constantly talking to myself, saying things like "Watch out buddy!" "Where did you come from?!" It ain't pretty.
As I was coming home I had to take the dreaded North Avenue. It's Lincoln Park's busiest/craziest street. As soon as I got on, a man cut me off, but that's pretty common, so I didn't do anything about it. I did however, when he subsequently slammed on his brakes at a light, and I nearly rear-ended him. The light was greenish/yellowish, and I was counting on him and I to both make it through. So, I did what's only natural. I honked.
Then I see his car door fly open. Uh-oh. (I'm hoping he doesn't have a gun.) In a thick accent, he proceeds to yell, "What the (bleep)? The light itsh red, so I stop. Thesh people, they has to cross street, so I stop. What you want me to do, hit them? What the (bleep) lady??" People on the street all stopped to watch this display.
The funny thing is-- in true big city form, he never looked me in the eye. I was to his east, and he looked south the whole time as he yelled. (If he had a gun, this would be a good thing because without looking at me, I bet his aim would be pretty bad.)
Sheesh. And to add insult to injury, gas is now $4.49 in the city.
I guess I'll stick to walking.
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