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Road Rage

While waiting for the streetcar on my way into work today, there were some construction guys that were blocking the road from letting cars by. So after about 2 minutes of waiting, an older man in an SUV laid his hand down on the horn and didn’t let up for a count of about 30 seconds straight. There is nothing I despise more than a honk that goes on longer than 3 seconds.

The construction guys let a few cars go through, and the SUV pulls up to the front. He was in a state of rage and screaming profanities at the workers. I thought he was going to run them over. So after they instructed him to drive around the construction, he turned his wheel ferociously and drove past them, cursing yet again at them as he drove by. As he’s pulling up to where I’m standing, I motioned with my hand that he needs to calm down. He pulls over beside me, rolls down his window, and starts screaming at me in his Ukrainian accent that he has been waiting for 5 minutes, no, 10 minutes for these mother f*#kers to move. He then starts calling me a mother f#(ker and screams at me for another 30 seconds in half English/half Ukrainian calling me every name he can think of. I stand there with a smirk on my face and continue my hand motion for him to calm down. He then lays his foot on the gas, squeals his tires and burns through the red light, screaming more as he tears away from me. Some people make their lives much more difficult than they should. I didn’t even bother telling him that I had been standing outside in the cold long before the construction crew even appeared, while he was in the relative comfort of a nice SUV.