I’m trying not be a road bully. I drive a little yellow Honda S2000 roadster that can tear past most vehicles in a flash. It’s agile and incredibly fast and I love it almost as much as my beloved mate and my two daughters. My eldest daughter calls it–and the black S2000 that preceded it–my “spirit animal”. When my sweet car recently suffered traumatic(for me & the younger daughter who was driving it) engine failure at less than 50,000 miles, I grieved seriously.
Apparently, the previous owner didn’t know how to drive a stick shift and rode the clutch or red-lined the car from a flat stop. Thrust bearing blown out by racing it or by simple bad driving. Either way, the engine had to be re-built after lots of serious discussion and debate as to the best person and best way to do this. We had some big-time consultants in on this.
Anyway, I got my car back about three weeks ago…and cried with joy. Let me tell you why. This car is my exoskeleton. My external structure and it’s way more gifted than me. I’ve never been fast or particularly agile myself and I’ve mourned this. (Of course, I married a very kinesthetic, athletic, wonderfully-built man who flipped our kids with great ease when they were younger and has tremendous physical skills.)
The comparison between beloved husband and my clumsier self was embarrassing. I trip a lot.
I want to be and usually have no difficulty being a kind human being. I make mistakes and bad choices–like us all–but being kind is not typically hard for me. I’ve had to accept recently, however, that others sometimes find my driving(in this car) distressing. I don’t run anyone off the road and I don’t endanger lives(promised my husband I would kill myself in this car), but I am increasingly aware that I feel Like-A-Boss in my car. Really. I’m kind of an asshole.
I sometimes don’t let others merge when I should. I have been known to call other drivers assholes when they don’t drive well and I sometimes gesture–no, not that gesture–when drivers need to go through traffic signals. But I’m working on it. I’m really, really trying not to be a jerk.