I Hate Driving

I hate driving. You might be looking in one direction and you completely miss a car turning your way. You could be singing to the radio, you could be fixing your review mirror, you could blink and almost hit a fellow driver. As in my case, you might do one of these things and be followed home by an enraged stranger.

On my final left turn before reaching my house, I noticed a woman in a white car breathing down my neck. We were almost bumper to bumper, and I was really worried she was going to hit me. I followed through my turn thinking she was just going to keep going. Nope. She took a hard left and continued trailing closely behind me. My heart rate began to pick up. In the review mirror, I could see she was not happy at all–livid actually. I turned into my parking spot, and to my dismay and shock, she followed suit. I shakily turned off my car. Actual panic welled up inside of me. I could see that she was rolling down her window, and I attempted to make myself look confident.

Slowly, I got of my car. I turned and looked at her curiously. “YOU NEED TO WATCH WHERE THE F*** YOU’RE GOING!!” she screamed. My heart plummeted, and I tried to quickly rationalize the situation. Was she mad that I was turning onto my street? All I could think to say was, “I used my turning signal.”

I received the dirtiest glare I have ever seen. As she peeled out of the parking lot screaming more profanities, my mind was reeling. Where would I have almost hit her? I mentally retraced the entire drive home, and I could come up with nothing. It was because I had seen nothing. I’m definitely not calling her a liar, because there’s no way someone could be that upset over nothing. The most frightening part of the whole situation was that I had no clue what went wrong. I missed it. And I could have hurt someone. So yeah, I hate driving.


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