Okay, so I probably have more peeves than I should. It makes my life more stressful than it has to be.
I’m driving home from work the other night (okay, how good does it feel to be able to say THAT?), and behind me is someone with their high beams on. Blasting in my mirrors, in my eyes, generally giving me a headache. It’s after dark on busy, well-traveled roads. Why the heck would someone be running with their high beams on?
I tried to shrug it off, pay it no attention. I’d had a decent day at work (all of them have been decent; not a single bad day yet). Why should I care?
Another mile, then two. I turned off the road onto another. I sigh with relief when I notice in my rearview mirror High Beams is turning too. Great. Well, this is a four-lane road, and maybe he’s heading for the expressway.
Nope. He gets in behind me.
I’m taking the next left up ahead, and High Beams is still far enough behind I’m not blinded yet. I put my signal on and slide into the left turn lane. I tip my head back and rest it against the seat back. I’m not going anywhere for a few minutes.
Then I notice the inside of the car, right through my eyelids, gets brighter.
Yep. Good ol’ High Beans, back there burning my retinas.
At this point I start seething. And I know, when I start seething, there’s no stopping the seethe. Soon it’ll devolve into full-on rage, and then I don’t know what will happen. Mostly because I’m too fat and chicken to do anything about it. But doggone it, I HATE that crap.
Another mile or two up the road and I’m screaming at my rearview mirror for this a-hole to shut off his high beams, please, oh Lord God make him have an accident, send gravel to knock out his lights, fire, brimstone, hail, anything – ANYTHING.
At the next stop light, I bang my head against the steering wheel. I’m praying for one of the two of us to die. And suddenly the lights dim.
Okay, so I got a little over-stressed. That happens sometimes. I had visions of that person’s lips smacking under my knuckles with sickening satisfaction and being torn open on broken teeth with its pieces tumbling down his throat, That’s probably over-reacting to someone with their high beams on, though.
So, I hate it when people drive with their high beams on, either behind me or going the other way. What makes them so frickin’ inconsiderate? Around here, it happens all the time. ALL THE FUDGIN’ TIME. I hate it.
So, what about you?