On my commute to work this morning I was challenged to race.
I was stopped at a light on the Beltline, this four lane divided highway, listening to a book on tape while trying to forget that I was heading to work at a job I dislike; when my reverie was broken by a revving engine. I glanced left and saw this sporty import whose driver was smirking at me. I’ve have no clue who this person was, but he had longer curly hair and he checked his head to indicate a race.
Why on earth did he think I would want to race? I was sitting in my “non-sporty” Ford Focus and he’s in a sporty import. Also it’s 11:30 in the morning on a busy road. WTH?!?
When the light changed he paced me until he realized that I wasn’t going to careen down the road in some desperate attempt to prove that I’m the alpha male. Beside I knew I didn’t have a chance.