Dear Man in the Truck With a Purple Stripe:
The other day, on County Line Road, I was driving in the left-hand lane. Granted, I don't always go as fast as everyone in that lane goes, but I was clipping along just fine. Plus, I had to make a left turn shortly. So, when you pulled up next to me and then slowed to match my speed, I was a little confused. That's a popular spot for road rage (believe me - I'm the queen of it), so I was worried that I'd done something to offend you. You stayed next to me and I started to feel a little unnerved. Not exactly feeling up to a confrontation, I decided not to look over at you.
I'm sorry. How could I have known?
It wasn't until I got into that turn lane and slowed down that I realized what was going on. It slowly dawned on me as you hung your head out the window and gave me a wide grin.
I'm old enough now that I don't really care if you're kind of dirty or driving a landscaping truck or whatever. I'll take what I can get, and it's nice to believe, even if it's just for a minute, that I've still got it.
You made my day and if I'd had any idea what was going on, I would have at least granted you a wink and a smile.
Next time, 'k?
The Girl in the Green Cadillac