"That's fine," I said to my carpooling sister. "Now I don't need to accelerate quickly (I think I need to add some oil to my car)."
The semi flew past and got over in front of me. He was carrying a giant Thing. What it was I do not know, but it was a very big Something... somewhat conical shaped and looked like it was solid iron. This constituted a wide load, and there was a corresponding pickup truck carrying the "wide load" banner.
"What is that?" I said to my carpooling sister. "It looks like a giant... um... I don't know." I thought of the noses of rocket ships and submarines but doubted the idea.
Feeling slightly sheepish for pulling out when I did, I moseyed along behind the Giant Thing and his bodyguard. Lots of traffic passed us, and I observed that the wide load wasn't keeping right-ish in the slightest. I smiled amiably at the driver's confidence. Traffic had to jolly well hug the leftish side of the highway to go around. I even saw a regular semi lean left as it passed.
Finally, as we approached a red light, I decided I was done cruising behind these guys, and swung into the empty left lane. Then a strange thing happened. The escort pickup truck chose that particular moment to get partway into the left lane in front of me!
"Okay...?" I said with a bemused titter. The light turned green and the pickup truck returned to his spot in the right lane.
"Oh," I said, "I guess he didn't want me passing while we're at a light." Still in the left lane, I pressed my foot to the accelerator. Only for the pickup truck to get in front of me again!
"Dude!" I said, in amused frustration. "I saw other people passing earlier!....sheesh Fine!" So I got back into the right lane, and so did the pickup truck.
I was going to make a right turn in a mile anyway (to get a car wash), so no big deal to be forced to stay in the right lane, eh? As I shrugged this thought to my sister, several cars passed me and the pickup truck and the Big Thing. "Seriously!?" I sneered.
I turned to V. "He's mad at me for pulling out in front of him! That's the only explanation I can think of! Do you think he'd seriously do that?"
We drove on, and I said, "It's like an animal!... they are strange animals!"
A bit later I said, "when we get next to him, please give him a long stare... and tell me if he's looking at us and looking mad!" (I was kind of afraid to make eye contact, myself).
We got to the light where I was going to turn right. Traffic slowed as it approached the red light, and I wasn't quite to the turn lane yet, so I waited, not wanting to do the slightest thing to offend those delicate temperaments in front of me. A big pickup truck barreled past me on the right shoulder. "Hey!" I exclaimed. A car behind me did the same thing. Now, pretty much at the turn lane, I moved over. And, like a strangely predictable mother bear, that escort truck moved over to block me! I stopped (for the traffic was stopped and now that he was blocking, I had to stop.) I laid on the horn for a halfway satisfying BJEEEP. He ignored me, did not budge.
"Now that he's so close to the other truck, maybe you can get by," V said.
"Uhh, yeah I don't want to mess to closely with him." Somehow I didn't doubt that he'd feel free to ram me if I insisted. And then somehow it would turn out it was my fault because this was a big government Something and because I'd displayed such poor driving skills earlier, it was the escort's duty to make sure I didn't get another chance to pull in front of the big truck. Maybe if they'd hit me there would've been a ginormous explosion.
Intimidation is a funny thing. If I forced my way past that guy, I somehow wouldn't have been one bit surprised if he like riddled my car with a machine gun. or just leaned over and smushed us. Just by insistingly pulling in front of me, I believed he Meant Business. Except-- I did have the nerve from a somewhat safe distance to bleat my horn at him.
When the light turned green, for a moment I thought the pickup truck was going to leave his Wide Load and turn right, in front of me, just to prolong the punishment! But he eased on through the stoplight, and I was free to continue on my way to get the car wash. That took about ten minutes, so back on the highway I didn't encounter those people again. I'm glad I happened to be stopping off, or it would have been a strange trip home, submissively crawling behind the Big Thing the whole way.
V said, "Maybe it was the semi driver, not the pickup driver, who's mad at you. And he radioed back to the pickup driver."
I suppose to a couple of bored but tense drivers, maneuvering the US highway system with a huge and heavy load, I was one of those blights of bad drivers, who they wholeheartedly wish they could just wipe out. Well, I like to tell myself they had a really good explanation for not letting my car pass. But I think I can now understand how road rage comes about! I felt so infuriated that for one silly miscalculation, that guy was taking it in his own hands to make me pay.
I guess too, in a small way, I understand more what it feels like to be discriminated against.
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