(After giving E. a jump start, she tried to head home, but unfamiliar with Folsom Blvd., she headed east: the wrong way. I pulled beside her and persuaded her to make a U-turn at the next light. I would lead the way, in the left hand lane. Unfortunately, she was slow pulling behind me, and another car interceded. The driver of that car wouldn't allow E. to pull in directly behind me. He drew up close to my back bumper and gestured for me to move faster. I stopped short of the next, red traffic light, got out of my car, and tried to communicate with him.)
Me: (pointing at E.'s car) Sir, would you allow this car to pull behind me? We are trying to form a caravan!
Twerp: (rolling down his window with controlled contempt) Is that the reason you cut me off? This is stupid!
Me: ("Cut me off?" Like, how? In some kind of Walter-Mitty, road-rage fantasy of yours?) No, sir, it is not!
(The light proceeded to turn green, and after much passive-aggressive maneuvering, said caravan was finally assembled. After installation of a new battery, further car drama was forestalled until, oh, like maybe next week.)
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