Dinner tonight was Arby’s. Yeah, I know, two days ago I wrote all about being back on the diet and tonight I went out for fast food. That’s the beauty of my diet though, I can eat anything I want, as long as it’s in my calorie range. And thanks to some delicious homemade soup and these tiny, tasty plums from Trader Joe’s, I could afford to spend most of my caloric allowance on a roast beef sandwich and some curly fries. Besides, I’m not writing about the diet tonight. I would, after all, hate for this blog to become some sort of strange obsessive diet log. I already have a notebook to count calories in and I won’t bore anyone willing to spend their time reading my thoughts with the mundane details of what I ate today.
I haven’t been to Arby’s since the drive-thru altercation about a month ago. I don’t know if I can really call it an altercation. I guess it was more of a hostile exchange of words between vehicle operators. I pulled up to the window, paid for my order and tried to pull away to take my food home. This was not possible, however, because a rather large van was parked about five inches in front of the pick-up window, apparently awaiting their order. I also realized I couldn’t back up because an equally massive truck had just pulled around to get its order. I tried to maneuver my land cruiser of a car, but to no avail. I waited a few moments, hoping the van would get the hint and pull forward. It remained stationary. So, I had no choice…I had to honk.
Generally I am not a honker. I don’t much care for the sound of anyone’s horn, mine included. I also don’t tend to flip people off or yell at them through open car windows. I do scream sometimes, but in the safety of my glass enclosed world, more to let off my steam than to attract any real attention. This time there didn’t seem to be a choice though, so I tapped on my horn. The van, finally acknowledging my presence inched forward just enough so I could get my car out. My window was still down from getting my order and as I approached the van on the right, I heard the driver yell something at me. I stopped my car once our windows lined up and said, “Excuse me?” The driver glowered at me and yelled something to the extent of “You didn’t have to be so rude and honk your damn horn at me.” I was slightly dumbfounded. Not just because she called me rude or ignored the fact that she was too inconsiderate and oblivious to notice anyone else in the world around her, but because it was the second time that day I’d been yelled at by someone from a car.
Earlier that same day Eee and I had been trying to get to the bank. We pulled in to one of those middle turn lanes but couldn’t get in because someone else pulled too far into the lane to make the opposite turn. Although this annoyed us, there was nothing we could do but wait. He turned and before we could pull up to make our turn, another car zipped into the lane and promptly pulled right up to where he had been. It was clearly our turn, so this time, Eee yelled and honked her horn. The woman started her turn, but when she saw Eee yelling, she actually stopped her car, blocking both lanes of oncoming traffic, got out and began yelling at us. I say that she saw Nancee yelling, because her first words to us where, “Don’t you call me a bitch.” Eee had not called her any names, just yelled that it was our turn. But there, in the middle of the street, this woman wanted to fight. She continued to yell at us until people started honking at her, then she turned her anger on them and actually yelled, “What the fuck are you honking at?” Gee…couldn’t be the crazy woman blocking traffic and screaming in the middle of the road, could it?
We turned around her and went on with our day. I didn’t forge the incident though, so when the woman in the van yelled at me for being rude, I was slightly taken aback. However, rather than lose my temper, I looked at her and her mangy husband and said, “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get my car out because you hadn’t pulled up far enough.” She threw her hand up in the air, waved me along in a condescending manner and said, “Whatever, just go, get out of here girly.” Girly? Was she kidding? So, I did the only thing I could, I drove away, yelling as I went, “Well, you didn’t have to be a bitch about it.” I have a feeling had her meal been with her, she would have chased me down and possibly jumped from her car. But, as she was stuck and I knew she was, all she could do was yell something barely audible at me as I smiled and pulled back on to 96th Street.