Road Rage Confession

I took a little heat from my girlfriends about my Road Rage blog in August. You see, I had a little “incident” back in April. One I prefer to pretend never happened. They say confession is good for the soul, so here goes.

Six of us were heading to Key West for a rare girls’ weekend. Our brilliant plan: get up at 4 AM, catch the early flight into Miami, rent a car, drive 4 hours through the Keys and be sipping Mojitos pool-side by noon. My memory of the road rage incident is a bit foggy. I was terribly sleep deprived and blinded by pain. (See my June blog titled Bedside Manner, the one with a warning about flying when you have fluid on the ear.)

I vaguely recall taking a wrong turn out of the airport, spending an hour driving through Miami looking for an on-ramp to the highway. When I finally located the highway ramp, an aggressive driver was unwilling to let me merge in. (You know the drivers who speed up once you put on your blinker, so you can't get in?) I do recall a raised voice emitting a few expletives, (I didn’t see anyone else’s lips moving, so that might have been me), a finger being raised (quite possibly the middle one), and a loud horn blairing (did that come from my car?). When I turned to the gals for comaraderie, to diss the idiot who almost hit us, they looked at me with fear and trepidation. Uh-oh.

I am embarrassed. I am ashamed. I'd like to plead temporary insanity, please. But, hey gals – I am confessing! That, and a round of Mojitos, might get me invited back next year. Or, might not.

See what can happen? Be careful when you are driving. Road Rage is never OK. But, hey folks - can you also try to remember to be polite behind the wheel and let that car full of lost girls merge in? Perhaps you will help keep folks like me from being put on the "maybe" list for next year's trip.