No More Mrs. Lead Foot

Ever since I was given a set of wheels of my own at the age of 15 I've been somewhat of a speed demon. I was never one for souped up cars or anything like that; I've just always enjoyed a comfortable highway speed of at least 80mph.

Even my awesome 1970VW convertible beetle would be maxed out to 90mph on occassion. Her name was Squirt and she looked a lot like this beauty:

image borrowed from here

Despite my lead foot tendencies, I was always a very cautious; mostly defensive driver. I was never wreckless while driving in bad weather; which wasn't often growing up in sunny Los Angeles. And the one car accident I did have where I was at fault was a minor fender bender pulling out of a parking lot while mildly distracted.

Now that I am expecting my first child I've eased up on the lead and am even more cautious than ever. However, my patience with moronic drivers has decreased.

Yesterday while on my way home I encountered one of these moronic drivers. As I was exiting the freeway, lowering my speed; this jackhole comes flying down the a little street that intersects with my exit. He was coming so fast that he California rolled into the first lane (I was in the second); he paused long enough to look dead at me driving in his general direction. Instead of STOPPING like any sane person would; he slammed on his gas completely cutting me off. I had to slam on my brakes and swerve to avoid colliding with him. I laid on my horn and began to curse at him from behind the wheel.

Despite his Evel Kneivel stunt he puttered along at a relatively slow pace allowing me the chance to pull up beside him where he was greeted with a lively display of my "bird" and plenty of enunciation so that he could make out all of the expletives I was hurdling his way.

The whole incident freaked me out. My heart was racing and I had to remind myself to breathe slowly. It was then that I realized that slamming my brakes caused my seatbelt to tighten around my lower belly. Once I was home I had a hard time getting out of my car due to sore muscles. If any neighbors were watching me they probably had a little giggle watching my walk.

I did my kick count and called the doctor; everything is just fine. The whole ordeal was just a reminder that you simply cannot trust other drivers to use common sense or even basic courtesy.

I'm just going to have to get use to trading in my days of driving down the highway at 85 with the top down for a mere 5 miles over the speed limit with my hands at 10 and 2.