Is something quite astonishing

Ok, I’m breaking radio silence, even though I’m still officially too busy for OD. I swear, I plan to be back for real some time next month. I reiterate my apologies for not reading, keeping in contact, etc. But I have to tell this story.

Last night, I decided to come home after rehearsal, which was to have been the first night at home in a good long while. Like, a week. I went to a conference in Texas last weekend, and then I had late rehearsals and early classes in Cambridge, plus one night where I went out and had drinks instead of coming home, so it’d been a very long time since I’d seen my bed. I had class the next (this) morning, but I decided if we got out of rehearsal at 10:00 or 10:30, I could be home by 11:30 or so and relax for an hour or two, then get some good sleep and drive back up in the morning.

No such luck.

Rehearsal ended at about 11:30. This was after our call was at 6:00. I had the Worst Traffic Ever, and it took me two hours to get there, so I left at 4:45 and arrived, frantic and late (and unfed), at 6:45. We were still just sitting around, nowhere close to starting. We started at 8:30, and got out at about 11:30. Super. If I’d known we’d be going that late, I’d probably have made plans to stay in town, but I hadn’t brought toiletries or a change of clothes or my notes for class. So, I went to drive home. I offered Emily and Colleen rides, and they both accepted, and I dropped them off, then got on Storrow Drive, going toward the highway.

Some short distance from the highway entrance, Storrow Drive became very, very backed up. As in, complete stop, inching forward a foot or two every fifteen seconds or so. At this point, I was frustrated, and hungry, and annoyed, because I hate traffic. At one point, there was a series of warning signs, indicating that the right lane would end, and that we had to merge left. I merged left, as did a bunch of other cars, and the nearly-ended right lane was close to empty. Some ten minutes (maybe 20 yards) later, two cars that were several spots behind me decided to cut ahead of the rest of us by jumping into the right lane, intending to force their way back in later. I disapprove of such things, and try not to reward such people by letting them in in front of the rest of us who are playing nice.

It turned out, that position *did* fall to me, and the spot at which they were eventually forced to merge was very close to me. I’d’ve rather not let either one in, under the circumstances, but I let the first car ahead of me. No way in hell was I going to let TWO cars cut in front of me in that way. So I slowed and made a gap for the one, but then I stayed pretty close, indicating that I would not let them both in.

That second car, though, had a different standard for pretty close on the highway. He stayed literally less than an inch away from the car in front of him, obviously intending to force his way in. Had I been in only a slightly better, or less angry, mood, I’d’ve thrown my hands up in exasperation and let him in, hoping for a chance to give him a dirty look. But I didn’t feel like yielding when it was my right not to. So I didn’t. I pushed forward too. (Remember, this is all happening VERY slowly.)

The bastard did not yield an inch. He kept trying to push his way in. Eventually, I honked the horn as I inched forward, and he did it again! I honked three times, and he did not yield. Apparently, he *really* wanted to be in front of me in the eternal lineup. The traffic stopped again, and there was a street light shining on us, so I turned around in my seat and looked at him. It was a young guy, probably about my age, and he looked level-ly at me. I gave him my “what the fuck?” stare, and extended my arms just outside shoulder width, with elbows bent and palms up. The body language translation was: “what the fuck kind of person blatantly cuts in like that, and doesn’t even yield when honked at?” He gave a tiny smirk and made a circling gesture with his right index finger, which I eventually figured out meant something like “ok, fine, go ahead”, because he actually waited for me to get in front of him when the traffic continued again.

The right lane finished existing at that point, so the guy in question was directly behind me. And here’s the really amazing part of the story. We’re all still sitting there at a standstill most of the time (this is well past midnight now), moving only inches on occasion. So I stop behind the guy in front of me, reasonably but not rudely close, as heavy traffic like this makes appropriate. And mister I-don’t-care-about-anybody-else-on-the-road-at-all stops quite close to me, then continues forward a bit further. *bump* After all this awkwardness, the guy bumps into me? God damn.

It turns out, it wasn’t an accident. Or if it was, he decided to run with it. After he bumps me and I widen my eyes in incredulity, he revs his engine an proceeds to PUSH me further. Like, I was lightly on the breaks, and he pushed me with his car, and so I had to press the break harder to prevent myself from being pushed in to the next guy. At this point, I cannot *believe* what is happening. I continue to not be able to believe it FOUR MORE TIMES.

I seriously considered two options. The more fun option: park my car in the middle of the very slow highway entrance, put on my blinkers, get out, and yell at the guy and/or record his license plate number. The less dangerous option: call the police. I did neither. I did spend the next ten minutes trying to see his license plate, so I could at least take note of the number, but he stayed too close to me.

It really felt violent and intimidating and threatening, and it was very upsetting, after a very, very long day. Eventually, after over an hour of detours through the middle of Boston (it turns out, that on-ramp was closed anyway), I got on the highway, and I made it home at about 2:00. There, I counted five dents in a row on my rear bumper.

I’m still sort of shocked that this occurred, and I’m still sort of shaken by it.

Anyway. Brief update on other stuff, since I’m writing: Yeomen opens tomorrow, and I think we’re not going to completely suck. There’s a chance that we might be good. We have a new soprano, because the old one flaked out, holy God. Speaking of which, I’m also having the best sex of my life, so that’s cool. I’m also the most busy I’ve ever been in my life, which is less cool. I’m frantically running back and forth between Cambridge and Providence, and writing term papers and grading and teaching and making presentations, and I’ll be very glad when things calm down. Because I haven’t done anything like sit down and relax to read a book or watch television or put my laundry away or do the dishes or have a good night’s sleep or anything like that in weeks, and well, it’s really getting to me. Writing this entry was the most extended bit of downtime I’ve given myself in… I don’t know how long. A while. I even signed onto AIM, which I never do these days.

Ok, gotta go.