Question: what is it about a woman who drives a 2010 Range Rover that makes her think it is okay to ride my bumper, throw up her hands in anger, flip me off, point her finger at me and silently yell at me (I'm sure she is screaming - how do I know? The look on her kid's face) as I look at her through my rear-view mirror? (Might I add that I'm sure my face was classic... shocked and utterly confused... a slight, upward turn of the mouth might have occurred - it was quite the funny scene to behold.)
No, lady, I'm not going to break the speed limit (I'm already going seven over) and no, I'm not going to run the red light. (It was red before I even got to the intersection. They didn't name it the "California Stop" by accident. Stopping for red lights is like a sophomore in high school studying for the ACT... it doesn't really happen.)
Just because you're running late for your botox session and to drop your kid off at the nanny's house, doesn't mean you can take out your anger on me. You should have left your 2.5-million-dollar-five-car-garage-home five minutes earlier. Take the phone off your ear, smile and breath.
If you are who you (and your paid fan club) think you are, they will wait for you.
Chill out, lady.