"Watch it!....What're you trying to do get me killed? Cheeeez!" my wife yelled as I was driving down North Avenue at 22 mph on our way to our community garden last Saturday.
"Whaddya mean," I said. "That guy just kept coming at me without stopping at all. Is he crazy?" A 20-year old SUV had just pulled out of a service station slowly but without stopping and had forced me to swerve into the oncoming lane. Fortunately, nothing was coming.
"I could've been killed! That guy was coming right into my side! Why didn't you blow you're horn?
"Look, I couldn't believe what was happening. How could he not have seen me?"
"The way you drive makes me wonder," she said. "You should have blown your horn."
"I just can't believe he didn't stop." (I'd left my taser gun at home so I didn't want a confrontation with the other driver.) "Why are you complaining about me? He's the one at fault. How come you never support me?"
"You have to drive defensively." (I now lowered my speed to 18 mph...and the offending vehicle was right behind me.
But why are you always blaming me?
"Look, I could've been killed." Long silence.
"I don't like to blow my horn. Besides there wasn't any time."
I can't drive with you..."
"Do you think it looks like rain?...."
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