Today I wrote another Dear Asshat letter because yesterday I was frustrated by someone's driving.
I don't tend toward road rage. I usually just mind my own business in the right lane AKA the old folks lane. I have never had a car accident. I have never even had a ticket. I did have a close call in Oregon in a rental car when I was speeding (35 in a 25) on a road during a Native American holiday celebration... true story. But I am a very careful driver. And I want to come home every night. I do not understand the mentality of reckless driving.
My way to handle the people who are impatient, passing me, and generally believing that if I am slowing down, it MUST BE because I am an idiot... not that there is a funeral procession that I am yielding to or a mom with a stroller in the street or a biker on the side of the road... I write a Dear Asshat letter. When someone disrespects me, I take up my pen and get busy.
I write down the license plate. I go to the public records sites. And I look for them. Remember, Asshats have always been Asshats, and have always been getting tickets, citations, and court appearances. Just sayin...
I write a little note. I tell them that my family loves me. And I scold them. I feel better. So, dear Asshat, thanks for almost rear-ending me (and being completely irrational) while I yielded to a funeral procession. I enjoyed your arm flailing. I am sure that you spoke words that were lovely. But that letter in the mail will let you know (anonymously of course) that I am not a speedbump in your day.