Crumminess

Had a semi-almost accident on my way to work this morning. Actually I don't think the incident qualified as an 'accident' per se. But it involved two cars on a road, so maybe I can get away with calling the whole thing an 'accident'. Who fucking cares.

Basically what happened was a Murano suddenly cut into my lane and I skidded to a halt barely avoiding a full-on collision. After experiencing the near-death panic and the jarring, screeching, forward-propelling jolt, I was quite ready to let the Murano moron driver off with a indignant blare of my tinny horn. I was certain that our cars barely made any contact. I would know because my car is basically made of rice paper. Raindrops could dent it.

But Idiot decided to pull over so knowing I'm the innocent party, I pulled over too. Getting out of the car was an Indian lady, talking on the phone and checking the non-existent damage to her car, no thanks to her dumb ass driving. I got out too, too happy to confirm that Mr Jeremy Clarkson (my car) is hale and fine and in fact, the only damage was some rubber transfer from my wheels to the side of the Retard's Murano. Puny at that.

She was still yapping on the phone and I overheard the conversation enough to start taking offense and began getting properly mad for brainless homicidal driving. I heard her repeating;

1. "...its just a Kelisa.. Just a Kelisa.."
2. "...Malay girl." ~full emphasize on the my race.

She was also stressing the fact that I have a 'P' license to whoever on the receiving end. And when she started talking to me, she was still on the damn phone and she was talking in bad Bahasa Malaysia and overall sounding like she's talking to an idiot (me) who can't understand English and is beneath her because my Jeremy Clarkson is a Kelisa to her Murano. And not once did she ask if I was okay.

Pissed beyond anything mainly because she didn't even have the decency to hang up her call before talking to me, I let it rip. In very rapid, highly condescending English. I put as many more-than-3-syllables-words as I could. The gist was;

..I don't care if your car is made out of gold, you should always check your blindsides before you change your bloody lane. That's just crummy driving, no matter what you drive..

I told her that she should know how SUVs have blindsides the size of a tanker. I think I repeatedly (3 times) told her how crummy her driving is. Yes, I used that very word. Juvenile? It was either that or 'bloody fucked-up piece of fucking molting crap'. 'Crummy' was easier to say.

I turned up the snotty and told her if she'd apologize I'm willing to let this go, seeing how both of our cars escaped unscathed. See how big of a person I'm being.

I stood up for Jeremy Clarkson, I sounded eloquent and magnanimous and I managed to get to work on time. I'm happy.

Picture from my crummy phone of the uncrummy Asakusa Shrine, Japan.
Just because.