Close Encounter

The other day, I was driving home from doing errands and must have been dogging it. Or at least the person behind me whose headlights I could occasionally see must have thought so. There were a couple moments when I thought about pulling over and letting this person by, but I decided not to. My passive-aggressive streak kicked in and I just kept driving.

The temptation for me is to slow down when someone is tailing me so closely, as if this teaches them something. I always assume that no confrontation will come of it, no weapons will be brandished, and I will have succeeded in aggravating the son of a bitch a bit more than he or she already was.

On the other hand, I guess I don’t know the situation—they could be late for work or on their way to a maternity ward to comfort a laboring mom-to-be. In any event, assumptions are made, tempers flare a bit, and the day goes on.  

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