THE REAL JERK

    A few years ago, while still living in North Texas I was driving to work from Carrollton to Arlington, about a thirty minute drive, I couldn’t help but notice how badly people drive. I’m sure I’ve noticed this before, but, for some reason, on that particular day, the realization sorta smacked me in the face. These driving patterns mostly occur when people are on a cell phone and paying absolutely no attention to what they are doing. They cut you off, they “fade” into your lane and are generally rude, without even having an inkling because they are busy “on the phone.” It almost makes road rage justifiable. Almost, but, certainly not enough to do something stupid, like, the first thing that comes to your mind as you are cussing out the idiot in the other killing machine. Besides, in Texas, there is a concealed weapon law and, honestly, I didn’t want to get shot by some clown who drives horrendously AND is “packin’.”     I mention this because I recently noticed that it really doesn’t matter what kind of conveyance you are using, rage can be a factor when there is stupidity involved. The last vehicle that got me into trouble was, of all things, a shopping cart. Call it “Aisle Rage.”      It was a very nice Saturday, midday, and my wife and I had just come from the movies. We saw “Star Trek” and I was filled with adrenalin. We decided, at the last minute that, since Costco was on our way, we would stop by and pick up a few things. Some Talking Rain (a really good carbonated water with a hint of fruit), some produce and the handy dandy 800 pack of paper towels for $12 dollars, because you can never have enough paper towels.       As we were walking through the very crowded front door, showing the Costco cop our membership cards, there was a guy who was blocking the entrance and moving quite slowly. I didn’t feel like spending the entire afternoon fighting the crowds so I pushed my shopping cart around his left side and was now in front of him. It was then that aisle rage apparently set in for him as he sped up, faster than he had been going all day, and ran his shopping cart into the back of my foot. I buckled and started to go down as I looked behind and, yes, cussed him out. He gave me a veiled apology with a very smug little smirk on his face and moved on, trying to pass my wife, who said “Go ahead, I don’t want my foot to be bloodied too.” He said, again with absolutely no sense of meaning it, “I didn’t do it on purpose.” Uh huh….and I’m Rex the Wonder Horse….wanna go for a ride?”        I saw him again down one of the aisles. I believe it was the aisle where you can get 62 giant jars of peanut butter for $11 dollars and, for some reason, no jelly. I looked him dead in the eye and cussed him again. He got that smirk back and repeated, “I didn’t do it on purpose.”       The incident, without question, ruined my day. I walked out of Costco with an attitude, found myself snapping at my wife and kids and let it get to me for hours. That’s when my wife, in her infinite wisdom, found the three words to calm me down. Those three little words that showed me how ridiculous I was being and that this aisle rage was totally unwarranted. The three words that made me realize why the guy had done what he did and why I had no reason to complain……those three magical words? “You started it.”