This is an open letter to the driver of the giant white Chevy truck with camouflage accents:
Dear Sir,
I wanted to write you this letter to let you know that I think you have the entirely wrong idea about me. When you decided to suddenly merge into the spot where my car was because you needed to make a right turn up the road, I appeared to be visibly upset. I apologize for this, because I was really only honking my horn to show my appreciation at the sudden change of scenery.
The truth of the matter was that I was considering just driving on the shoulder/ditch anyway and you merely helped me to make that decision. I think it was for my own good anyway because I know I can be awfully indecisive like that sometimes.
Also, when you saw me flashing you a “sign” with my right hand, I want you to know that it seemed to me that you got really angry. I couldn’t understand why someone who had just received the right lane as a gift like that could be upset at me for what I did except that I realized that you might have thought I was flashing you a gang sign.
I want to assure you, Mr. 50 year old redneck, that I was merely extending my middle finger and thumb because it is the universal symbol for “Do you speak sign language?”. In reality, I was trying to communicate so many things in that gesture such as:
1. I love your garishly huge white truck with quad rear tires. I think it is so cool how your front has only two tires and the back-end flares outwardly to accommodate your ridiculously awesome 6-tires-in-total configuration. My awe was merely compounded by your extensive use of forest-camouflage to accent and enhance your already sweet ride.
2. I wanted to let you know that I appreciated you giving me the opportunity to test my reflexes. It isn’t every day that a person gets to press their clutch and brake, shift into first gear from fourth, and honk their horn at the same time. It was an adrenaline rush and I am grateful to you for that.
3. I also wanted to let you know that I wasn’t at all worried about tearing the innards from the bottom of my car because I know how a Honda Civic is built for sudden off-road travel at 55 MPH. I wanted to simply reassure you that everything was going to be OK.
For some reason though, you felt like I had insulted you… and rightfully so. After all, it was clearly my fault and lack of communication that got us into this situation.
I realize that my bright-red car was probably hard to see in the afternoon sun because I must have been reflecting the camo from your truck, thus making me invisible. Camo reflected on red can have that affect I suppose.
At the time, however, I didn’t understand why you pulled off the road ahead of me and got out of your truck with a menacing look on your face.
To be honest, kind sir, I was surprised you would have considered the course of action that you took in this situation. If I had been you, I would have been grateful for the suddenly-open right lane, waved a greeting and turned at the light as you had intended to do.
However, you felt the need to approach my vehicle. Well, let me tell you that I know I can be unreasonable sometimes but let me assure you that I don’t normally exit my vehicle with the intention of hurting other human beings. I know I didn’t help matters any when I took a look at you and laughed. I didn’t mean to be openly scornful of your battle-prowess sir, but you were twice my age and half my size. It just seemed amusing at the time.
So you started yelling things at me and I quickened my pace towards you with my fists balled up and my neck muscles flexed. I hope that it wasn’t the reason you turned around and ran back into your truck and sped off. Please believe me when I tell you that when I get that “demon look” on my face and I am all tensed up like that it only means I was wanting to shake your hand and tell you all of these things in person.
I want to let you know that I am a fairly harmless guy. There is no way I would have beat you senseless with my fists on the side of the road and left you there to wake up sunburned and bruised later in the afternoon as a lesson in driving and humility. I really don’t know why you got so freaked out by my wanting to meet you because all of this was your idea and doing to begin with.
Nevertheless, you have taught me a valuable lesson. In the future I will do a much better job of showing my appreciation for sudden and forced lane-changes.
Oh, and rednecks piss me off. That too.
Sincerely,
Scott Blevins
The Driver of the Red Honda Civic
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