Thread by @FrizzlyBarrett

It finally happened.

I was driving home from work in my car — the White Pony.

(It’s the White Pony, because you’re not supposed to ride the White Horse. A little joke for the Laid Back fans.)

I was driving through a low spot, following a semi, when I saw it coming up behind me.

Now, this is where I’ll interrupt myself to say that … I have a history of getting speeding tickets.

But I haven’t gotten one since I got out of college — and I’m trying to keep it that way.

[So I was driving slowly, partially because of the big rig, and partially because I don’t want to get pulled over.

It’s a white sports car — statistically speaking, I’m more likely to get pulled over in this thing. Eurgh. Don’t even get me started on THAT.]

Anyway, where was I?

Oh, that’s right — I saw IT.

The car from Hell.

I’m normally friendly with other Mustang drivers — and by that, I mean I’ll compliment the car if we’re in a parking lot or something.

And if we’re going down the road? I usually let them pass me. (Especially if they want to drive faster than I do.)

I usually go a little bit over the speed limit, which seems … normal.

But I’m certainly not out here challenging people to races.

That doesn’t mean I don’t get challenged, though — and that’s exactly what happened. 🙃

Now, this is not a story where I emerge victorious — accepting his challenge, racing in the rain, flying past him, causing him to spin out into the median like Booboo The Fool, etc.

This is the part of the story where I admit that, as a woman, experiencing a man

(1) speeding up,

(2) slowing down to run alongside me,

(3) slowing down even more when I first hit my brakes,

(4) speeding up when I sped up again, and then

(5) braking again when I braked —

Well, all of that got on my nerves. And then it started to bother me on a deeper level.

Like, it was fun to be challenged for ten seconds.

But stretch that out over a minute-and-half — and it went from challenging to something a little more . . .

. . . a little more threatening, to be honest.

He wouldn’t let me lose. And I wanted to lose.

I wanted him off my back, off my side, off my whatever.

But he wouldn’t let me. And that made me furious.

To put an end to it, I turned off the highway onto a one-lane country road.

He roared off on the highway, accelerating to at least 80 MPH. And then I lost sight of him.

I was stunned — completely stunned.

It feels a bit like an overreaction now, but … I’m still not convinced that he wasn’t being deliberately dangerous.

I gave him every opportunity — for at least thirty seconds, which is a long time in racing! — to win, to cut loose, to leave me alone.

But he just wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t back off.

I sat there on the country road for about a minute.

I turned around at the edge of a farmer’s field, drove down another country lane, and then made my way back over to the highway.

I didn’t see him again — but I looked for him along the side roads.

In hindsight, I’d say he’s a bored young man with nothing better to do today.

But I don’t make excuses for menaces.

And if all this sounds like an overreaction, then maybe it sounds like an overreaction — but I was more afraid today than I was the day an elderly woman nearly ran me into a ditch on the same highway.

I’d say the fear level today was about equal to the time that I hit a deer going around 60 MPH.

*I* was going about 60 — the deer was going about 0, which is why I hit her.

🙃

But that’s another story.

I could end this thread with a shady comment about how I hope they increase his child support payments and repo his car … but I’m not that mean.

Instead, I’ll say that I hope I never run into him again.

@threadreaderapp Unroll, please. 🥺

And I also just remembered F9 was released last week, so I can probably blame his headassery on some sort of misguided dream of joining The Family.

Sir, there can only be one Vin Diesel. I’m sorry.