Ok, so there is this McDonald’s on Abrams Rd between Forest Ln and the eastbound entrance ramp to 635. This McDonald’s has a particularly poor layout. There are two entrances in to the parking lot, one on the right side of the building and one on the left side. While people who are driving in the lane closest to the McDonald’s can go in either entrance, people on the other side of the road can only go in the entrance on the right side (if you’re in the McDonald’s looking out) of the building. So in order for people entering from the opposite side of the road to go through the drive through, they have to drive in this little driveway that goes in front of the building (the drive through starts on the left side of the building and wraps around to the right). And the people leaving the drive through are exiting in the same place that people from the opposite side of the road are entering.

So there’s the set up for the following scene.

On occasion, I get a craving for a McDonald’s breakfast. It’s not often but on occasion. Well, Monday happened to be such an occasion. I apparently was not the only person having such a craving as there was a line to the drive through. It wrapped around and there were cars lined up in that little driveway in front of the building. I was on the opposite side of the road so I waited to make my left turn in to the entrance until I knew my car could get far enough in that it wasn’t sticking out and obstructing anyone’s way. I was about the third car back in the little driveway. Patiently I waited my turn until I was the first car in the driveway about to turn left to remain in line.

That’s when she did it.

This woman in a nice, newish Mercedes Benz makes a right turn from the street and darts directly behind the car in front of me and blocks me from exiting the little driveway.

The optimist in me thought, “Oh, maybe she didn’t see me here.” So gave the informative tap on the horn – the “hey, I’m here” honk. And she ignored me. I know she was ignoring me because people who aren’t purposefully trying not to look when someone’s honking, turn their heads in the direction that the noise is coming from. The only people that don’t look are the people who KNOW the honking is meant for them because they KNOW they did something wrong but don’t care to acknowledge it.

And here is where I became someone I don’t know. I became (to quote one of my favorite movies) an “anger ball.” Usually, I’d blow it off and try to find my peace while allowing that person to do what they felt they needed to do. And I don’t know why I became so enraged – my only theory is that I am the victim of injustice so many times in every day at my work place that I had had enough. That’s just a theory and totally irrelevant.

I laid on the horn, becoming even more upset as she continued to make the effort to ignore me. I visualized getting out of my car and banging on her window and not giving her the choice of ignoring me. Ramming the side of her pretty little Mercedes with my humble Honda was a thought that pleased me.

I, of course, did not choose to do any of these things, as tempted as I was. I have two rules of anger that are uncompromising. 1) You cannot hurt others – people, animals, etc. 2) You cannot hurt yourself – not just in the traditional thinking but things like getting arrested for assault, yeah, that’ll hurt you. Damaging my only form of transportation would be another example of hurting myself. Anyway, so the things I was imagining doing were never even considered possibilities.

I did try to make her ordering difficult when she got up to the little box. I could see her mouth start to move in the reflection from her side view mirror and when she did, I laid on the horn again, repeatedly. I was hoping that they wouldn’t be able to take her order. I was wrong. She drove up to the window.

My turn to order so I did in a remarkably calm, sweet voice. I drove past the box and saw her window still open. So I did something I never do.

I yelled at her from my car, with my window down knowing her window was down.

I titled this “You know you’re a nerd when…” and I’d like to clarify that my realization of said nerdiness was not from this sudden outburst. This eruption suggests something closer to being unbalanced than of nerdiness. No, the nerdiness is from the insult I chose to yell.

“YOU’RE RUDE AND ENTITLED!!!”

Note: I’m not sure if entitled means the same to therapists as it does to people who aren’t therapists. When a therapist uses the term “entitled” they are basically saying that one has an unmerited sense of entitlement, a feeling that they can do what they want because the world owes them. But rather than saying all that, we just say entitled. And while I was as pretty far from being a therapist as I could be at that moment, apparently a little snuck in through my choice of affront.

I’d love to tell you that after I yelled at her, I suddenly felt better and all my bitterness left but sadly that is not so. I was still upset. I was glad that I hadn’t done anything more severe than yell at someone. Imagine if I had done more, had some nasty repercussions, and then still not feel any more relieved.

It did make me aware of this anger ball in me that I should probably confront sooner rather than later.

And if nothing else, it reiterated my belief that there is no pay off in spending that much energy on negativity.