AN OPEN LETTER FROM MR. DEBONAIR

To the Young Man Driving The White Pickup Truck on Roswell Road at 2:05 p.m., Who Wished to Make a Left-hand Turn onto Indian Hills Parkway and Who Was Unfortunately Positioned in the Right-Hand Lane:

I regret that you felt it necessary to make an Unpleasant Face at me when I did not make way for you, causing you to wait until I passed before you could cut over from the right lane through the left lane in order to enter the left turn lane.

I understand that sometimes, whilst driving, your unfamiliarity with the Local Roadways may put you in uncomfortable positions in which you must rely on a degree of extra consideration and courtesy from your fellow drivers. Finding yourself in the far right lane when you want to make a left-hand turn is certainly one such uncomfortable position. Such things happen to all of us...especially if we tend to woolgather while we drive.

Please understand that I would have been all too happy to let you cut in front of me so as to make your hastily considered left-hand turn. We were all driving slowly, being in a school zone, and there was plenty of room in front of me. I would gladly have slowed down to let you in.

However, since you did not bother to engage your vehicle’s electrically-operated Turn Signal, I had no Earthly Clue as to what your possible intentions were. What am I, the Amazing fucking Kreskin? I can read your mind? No, I cannot.

Perhaps your Turn Signal was malfunctioning. In such a case, the normal procedure is to open one’s window and display a Manual Turn-Signal. For a left-hand turn, this consists simply of extending one’s left hand straight out the window. A Pointy-Finger may be used for extra emphasis in cases of desperation.

However, you did not do this. You gave me the Stink-Eye, squeezed in behind me, and then mouthed some undoubtedly Rude Remarks.

Alas, from such sad roots is Road Rage born. And all so, so unnecessary.

I regret any possible unpleasantness arising from our encounter this afternoon.

Next time use your signal, ya dickwad. Happy fucking motoring.

Sincerely yours,
Mr. Debonair