I'm a stinker

Yesterday:

It was around 8:30 at night and I was driving home from the supermarket. A horrid popsicle craving struck me about a half hour earlier so I hit the supermarket hoping to find Edy's whole fruit popsicles. Alas, they were all out. In their stead I purchased a box of Tropicana popsicles; 12 for the price of 14 (advertised "made with real fruit juice" which kinda scared me that there are enough popsicle makers out there who don't use fruit juice for fruit flavored popsicles it has to be advertised as something special).

With the popsicle box open in the passenger seat and a raspberry popsicle in my mouth I hit the road feeling very pleased with myself. I was in no rush, the night air was cool, and even obeying the speed limit I was no more than ten minutes from home. The road was dark, quiet; the type of quiet found only in open stretches between adjoining suburban towns. You know, the noise disappears, just for a moment, woods wall the road, and even though you know in two minutes you are going to drive passed condominium complexes, at that moment the quiet makes you feel as if the world is actually a gentle place to live.

I left my windows open and the cool air rushed through the car. The road was empty, or so I thought as I was about to step down on the gas, forgoing the 35 mile per hour speed limit and race home to get the popsicles in the freezer. But just before I put any pressure on the gas pedal, a large, white, Cadillac SUV pulled up behind me and flashed its brights. I was caught a bit off guard, so when I didn't immediately accelerate to satisfy the drivers lust for speed the SUV's brights turned on, no longer flashing, but now glaring into my car. Popsicles or no popsicles, I was not about to be pushed around by some jerk. So I did what any other jerk would do. I slowed down.

I kept my car traveling down the quiet road at a few miles under the speed limit. And when the speed limit dropped I obeyed (probably the first time I ever have driving that particular road). Brights still glaring into my car, the SUV practically nipping at my back bumper, we remained like this for about a song and a half (the fifth and sixth tracks on Transatlantacism by Death Cab For Cutie).

Finally we got to a red light and I pulled into the left hand turn only lane. The White SUV pulled up to my side. From the driver seat a very addled woman, no older than 23, stared at me. She did not appear angry, just awfully confused. I suspect she was expecting a different sort of person behind the wheel of my car. Who she was expecting, I can't say.

So I waved, and smiled as sincerely as I could, because when you boil it down, I am, as Daffy Duck likes to say, a stinker.

Oh, and the popsicle was delicious.