Four Wheeled Stories

Sweet Rage

The traffic was heavier than usual this morning. Even so, I was moving along without problems until suddenly I had to slam on my brakes, screeching to a halt, black tire marks etched into the pavement. I had barely missed a woman driving a small red car as she darted in front of me without warning. My coffee was sent flying and ended up on my lap, seeping through my freshly pressed pants.

I managed to pull along side her and glared menacingly, not speaking the words my looks were implying. She surprised me by rolling down her window, flipping me her middle finger. I was speechless as she began a verbal assault, using words I had never even imagined, let alone knew the meaning of. As she began cussing at me, her face became red and swollen. A man with a Navy Uniform, in the car just behind her, rapidly began writing as she spewed out hate and venom, her vernacular an expose' in the art of cussing one out. The Sailor, I assumed, would add the new words to his own vocabulary.

Her makeup began to smear as she continued to cuss at me and tears ran black as her mascara meshed with the red of her distorted face.

Traffic began moving once more and she rolled her window up and snuck in between two other cars to avoid me, should we stop again. I wiped the coffee from my crotch, put the McDonalds napkin in the ashtray and drove on, more slowly than before.
Too bad I did'nt think to get her phone number, I thought to myself. She was really quite cute!

You Just Never Know......

I stopped beside her at the light .Her eyes met mine just as

I was smiling at a comment heard on a radio talk show.

She smiled back. My heart raced for an instant. Both of

us turned to see the light go green. I let her go first. I needed to

evaluate the experience more closely, check out her car, memorize her plate number, take note of objects in the rear deck, whitewalls or black,

spinners or factory wheel covers- thank God there were

no bumper stickers.

You just don’t know who you are making eye contact with these days.

She could be anything. Yeah, she was beautiful alright,

Nice teeth, sweet smile, but who was she really?

Obviously someone’s daughter. A sister, a wife, a celebrity,

a man-eater? Of those I was unsure. Was her picture adorning the

wall of some obscure post office, or her face on a milk carton

along with her abducted child at the local Kroger store?

You just don’t know who you are making eye contact with these days.

I found myself sitting adjacent her once more at the next traffic light.

I began to look down at my lap as if I had dropped something.

I managed to catch quick glimpses of her that she did not see.

She was looking at her lap as well, fumbling with something unseen,

stealing second looks just as I. I stopped fumbling and looked

into her face. She did likewise. We smiled at one another again,

our faces flushed with embarrassment. We realized that our thoughts

were one, our anticipations the same.

Suddenly a man crossed in front of us on the crosswalk. We both

looked down as he glared into our cars, nearly making eye contact.

He passed quickly, the light changed and we drove on, side by side.

Looking into our rear view mirror’s we seemed to sigh a relief at the same time as the man reached the curb, looking back at us, checking out our cars, memorizing plate numbers, noting objects in rear windows.

You just never know who you are making eye contact with these days!