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So I'm driving home from work on Route 80 East. Its about 3:45, and the massive exodus from New York City has just begun. Traffic is starting to get a little heavier than normal so I can't drive my customary 80 M.P.H. One of the big, newly installed, useless, electronic traffic signs says "Route 80 East before Exit 48 Massive Delays". Now, one of the problems is that I just don't know what exit is what. Honestly. If you had a gun to your head, could you name the exit number that you take to get to work or home? I know what exit I am supposed to take. I know what the words say on the sign... I just don't know the number of the exit. I'm currently at Exit 55. Is my exit before or after Exit 48? Should I get off the highway now and ramble around backroads for awhile? And hey, what exactly do they mean by "before" exit 48? How far before? Just what the hell should I do?
Since traffic is still moving fairly well, I decide to stick it out on my preferred route. At one point, traffic had become almost stop-and-go. I am in the left lane (of course). At one instance of stop-and-go, a Lincoln Town Car-ish type thing drifts over from the right and forces it's way into the space between me and the car in front of me. So I figure that this is some kind of limo driver trying to get somewhere in a hurry. In New Jersey, there are little descriptive sayings under the license plate number for vehicles other than personal use. Some commercial trucks say "APPORTIONED", a word that I have no idea what it means. School buses have "SCHOOL VEH". This limo-type thingy said "OMNIBUS" on its plate. So it was either a limo or there were a whole slew of short stories in the back seat.
Anyway, I hold up my hand in the universal symbol for What the hell...?. In return I recieve "the finger". Now I have experienced all types of road rage in my day. And the best way I have found to combat this is to laugh. And I don't mean in a Reader's Digest "laugh-at-yourself" way. I mean, a huge, exaggerated laugh directed right at the offending driver. It has to be exaggerated, because he can see you only through his little tiny mirrors. You really have to sell it. I've found that nothing makes people angrier than being laughed at. It helps to calm me down and it is incredibly satisfying. And today, it worked to perfection.
As I said, I got the finger. I laughed uproariously and then shook my hands as in the universal sign for "oooo, I'm SO scared". I was rewarded with two fingers. Yep, he actually took both hands off the wheel to flip me off. I doubled my laugh efforts, implying in his rear-view mirror, that his display of contempt was just about the funniest thing I have ever seen. He proceeds to roll down the driver's side window to proclaim his finger for the whole world to see. Not content to flip me off through the back windshield, he somehow felt that I would be put in my place if his middle finger were outside his car. I don't know if this was an attempt to get the other drivers on his side somehow or what. Now my laughter is completely genuine. I am continually giving the "oooo, I'm SO scared" sign, PLUS the "tiny applause" clapping of the hands to show my appreciation for his performance. Then, it happened. I recieved the greatest satisfaction that a road rager can get. He reached up and moved his rear view mirror down, so he couldn't see me anymore. I got chills. It was my Oscar, Emmy, Tony, and Obie all in one.
While I was writting this entry, I heard a large thump in my house. This thump was followed by a faint wail. Jake had fallen out of bed. I went into his room and picked him up off the floor to put him back into bed. The back of his neck was really sweaty, so much that he had soaked the collar of his pajama shirt. I started to ask him if he was okay, when his snore indicated that he was still asleep. Imagine being able to fall out of bed without waking up. I think I am too much of a fat load to not wake up from that. The house would just vibrate too much. So I just put him into bed, covered him up, and walked out. He was muttering something the whole time, but I am sure he wasn't talking to me, but instead, somebody in his dreams.
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