The Nerve

On Tuesday, I had Joanna in tow in my car, on the 401 Westbound on our way to my hockey game in Brampton.

We were having a nice chat in the car about expectations. We expressed to one another some expectations we have of each other and such.

Then suddenly, something else caught my attention. I was always taught that while driving you should always check your mirrors every now and then just so you know and are familiar with your surroundings, so I was doing this.

I look into my rearview mirror and all I see is a grill and headlights. I'm already a safe distance behind a black Honda Civic, but this white beast of a truck was behind me. Tailgating me.

Tailgaters. I dislike tailgaters. Especially tailgaters in cars or trucks bigger than my Mazda3 Sport.

When this guy finally figures out that I'm not speeding up, but actually maintaining constant speed (where else can I go when there's a car in front of me?), he decides to finally change lanes. Not to the left lane to pass, but to the right lane to pass.

He looks over to me. I look over to him. Then I lost it.

I actually swore out loud.

Yep, that's how pissed I was.

Why?

Let's see. He was tailing me (with a bigger car). He passes me on the right lane (I don't really care about this). He looks at me and gives me a dirty look (what?). AND HE'S ON HIS FREAKING CELL PHONE (hey, isn't that a law now?).

And this guy has the nerve to give me a dirty look?

Eff you maaang!

At least I scored a goal and assisted on another for my team. :D But we are still looking for that elusive first win (we're like the Leafs).