You Can’t Call it Road Rage

More like Road Bewilderment, I think. See, I went to pick up my mail. This can be a dangerous thing because the parking lot acts as a host to a driving free for all. Just getting in and out of there with car and body intact is the mark of a good day. The fact that my replacement hard drive was waiting for me in the UPS Store is a bonus! When I tried to leave, that’s when I observed a good many things.

First were the two old ladies that were parked on my left that stood next to my car for about five minutes, trying to figure out how to arm their SUV. That right there makes for a shining contradiction on many levels, but OK. When they finally walked away, I started to back out. As I did, I noticed a Concorde coming down the aisle but still a ways off, and since I was more than half way out, I thought I’d continue. The old man driving this vehicle took this as a challenge and gunned his engine, against the protests of his wife in the passenger seat.

I stopped and waited. He approached me and then decided to slow, as if to figure out what I was going to do, so I waved him on. I finished pulling out and come to a four-way intersection that has a two-way stop: me and the SUV in facing me. I had stopped first so when traffic cleared, I started to roll forward. That is I rolled until the SUV jumped out into a left turn. She stopped directly in front of me and looked at me, as if to see if she had done a bad thing. I waved her on too, taking the more cautious road of “get me away from her”.

I pulled up to the red light, so that I could pull out onto US Route 1. Light turns green. Two cars go. The car in front of me pulled up to the light and then stopped; he then started to slowly roll forward as if he was turning on red, even though the light was still very green. I beeped. He stopped again. Then he pulled around the corner while still in what must have been neutral. That’s when I noticed that it was the old man in the Concorde again.

Route 1 in Milford is at least two lanes per side at all times, so I opted to take this opportunity to pull past him at a red light; when the light turns green, I move back to the right lane and hang out there as more lanes are created around me – the mall has whole lanes dedicated to themselves up here.

That’s when I notice the Asian woman on my right that’s driving a 2001 Series-3 BMW. This struck me as rather decadent. I don’t know why that is… I mean she looked Japanese, but my western eyes are never 100% positive about guessing nationalities (I’m batting about .667 on who’s who in Asia) but even so… Something just felt… good about seeing a Japanese woman driving a German car. At least I think so. Well. Simply put: yum.

She turns off into the mall, before I can get a better look at her – or the car – and I stop at another light. It’s at this point that I realize that between the two old people in the car in front of me and the old couple driving in my favorite Concorde behind me, that if I took their collective ages and hopped back in time, I would be placed at John Adams’ dinner table. Also while at this light, I was treated to an American Idol wanna be, singing away in her Montero, to my left.

Thus begins the 21mph trek up Route 1, while stopping for six stop lights in a row… at least there was a mocha waiting for me at the end of the pilgrimage.

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