So, I have a story that I’ve wanted to tell on my blog forquite some time.
Since it’s been over a year since it happen, I feel that thecrazy person I encountered in this story has long since forgotten about me. (Fingerscrossed)
About mid-April of 2011 I was going home every day for lunchand checking on our fur-child, Hank. The road our old house is on is a scenicroad with a lot of curves. It’s nothing new to get behind a slow driving “flatlander” as I’ve fondly called the tourists passing through. Well thisexperience ended a bit more differently than the usual flat-lander encountersdo.
I get behind this “hamster car” that’s going about 35 MPH ina 55. So I follow him as he speeds up through the straight stretches and thenslows down tremendously in the curves forcing me to * WOAH! slam on break *here I thought we were going to go at least 45 MPH but oh no I don’t think sothose corners are scary!
So we start to go down lone star hill and he flat STOPS inthe middle of the road, rolls down his window and proceeds to flip me off andyell at me. What did I do you ask? I looked at him in sheer panic and did the “go,go, go, go” hand motion as this idiot doesn’t know that chicken trucks flythrough here multiple times a day and this lone star hill is exceptionallysteep and curvy and had a semi came up on us, it would have been horrific. Did Imention this was about two weeks before my wedding day? All I could think is, “Idon’t want to die before I get married!”. (ugh! ass clown) it gets better…
After he slams on his breaks and stops us in the middle ofthe highway I finally get to pass him on the bridge I had to hit 80 as itpissed him off that I was passing him so he was flooring it to stop me fromgoing around… by this point I’m on the phone with my mom telling her what’sgoing on and about 3 miles away from work. I asked her to send someone outsideto meet me as I was scared of this crazy flat-lander and she passively says somethingto the effect of “well okay let me know when you get here.”
So I pull in to the store parking lot, sure enough the assclown pulls in behind me. I normally park in the back where the other employeespark but since this was such a specialoccasion I parked outside of one of the side doors and parked with my nose-outso just in case something happen and Icouldn’t get out of my car I could at least drive. So this d-bag pulls in andparks right in front of my car where I’m helpless either way, I can’t move mycar, can’t back up because of the building and I must either sit in my car, orget out. I made the choice to get out.
Like I said he pulls up to block my caroff and he says something to the effect of “I’ve called the police, you and I aregoing to stay out here until they get here and you’re going to get arrested” Ilooked at his flat-lander ass and kind of laughed a little but remained eerilycalm… I said “you can do what you want, I’m going inside.” He says to me “whywere you going so fast as he lights up a cigarette, don’t you know you wereendangering me and my INFANT CHILD in my car?” * I glance in the back of hiscar and sure enough, an infant carseat * and I said “the speed limit on thathighway is 55 mph.” he said “no it’s not it’s 35, I saw the signs, they’re allover the road, you need to go back though there and read” and retorted back, “Ilive here, the yellow ones are SUGGESTED”. He yells back at me “YOU’RE ONDRUGS!” I laughed and said “yeah, right”.
Finally effingFINALLY my father walks outside and I say scared/panic-ly “dad this guy hascalled the cops on me because of my driving” dad say’s to him “what seems to bethe problem?” and he said to dad “no problem I’m just going to wait here untilthe cops show up” so dad WALKS OFF. I decide screw it, my cars locked I have mypurse, I’m walking inside. So I go inside and tell Rick what’s going on outsideof his window and he laughs, I go to my desk on the opposite of the buildingand sit there and it’s all kind of starting to “sink in” as my nerves takeover. This turd sits out by my car for 5-10 more minutes than proceeds to drivearound the store twice peering in the windows and finally drives off. The copsnever come, no one ever called, nothing.
The next week I get buzzed at my desk, “April, SheriffMorgan is asking to see you” so I walk down stairs. And sure as shit there hesits! I go up to him, and he’s sitting all alone at one of the lunch tables andsays “take a seat, lets talk” and so I do and he says “is there something youwant to tell me?” and I said “well what do you know?” and he said “why don’tyou just tell me what I need to know.” I flat spill my guts and tell himeverything, and he starts cracking up! My coworkers are at their stationscracking up… the sheriff knew nothing, they just talked him in to pulling alittle prank on me. I thought I wasgoing to stroke out, I kept thinking, I did nothing wrong! And besides HE wasendangering the infant by stopping in the road and smoking with the baby in thecar if they take me to jail I’ll tell on him for doing that, that’s far worsethan getting too close to an idiot that keeps slamming on his breaks.
Hilarious, thought I had friends here at work. They’re outto kill me with my own guilt!
You know the thing that still blows my mind is James and my folks still don't believe that I wasn't speeding/driving recklessly. I swear to you all I don't drive crazy- like high-school crazy. I keep it about five above the speed limit and do my best to abide by all the traffic laws! Gosh!