Attack of the Man with Ice Cream Cone

I was driving on the freeway, coffee in the console, radio blasting the Good News and my air conditioner gently reminding me that I am quite fortunate to have it.


I get to the bottle-neck, where my exit turns into yet another freeway, and out of the blue, some idiot with an ice-cream cone zooms by to pass me on the shoulder, almost swiping my car. Apparently he had ticked off some of the other drivers because all of the sudden this Dallas traffic jam turned into New York City during rush hour.

I turned off The Good News, as I didn’t feel worthy to listen to it as all kinds of crazy thoughts flew through my head. I wanted my own revenge, hopefully getting a chance to cut him off or drive by and wrinkle my nose at him in disgust, but that’s all. I moved here from L.A., and even I know not to get too involved in road rage drama, as it can turn deadly at any given moment. Oh, and I could never yell out of the car window. No way! I just think screaming out of a car window is so tacky. You can’t even hear what the person is saying, especially if your window is up. People who scream out of car windows look like angry Mimes with no make-up on.

So as this maniac proceeded to try and get in to where the bottle neck was becoming wider, he took a dramatic lick from his tiny ice cream cone! What? Is he serious? I had a good enough look at him to see that he was a large, hairy, dark man, like Stromboli from Pinocchio. The windows on his big, stupid pick-up weren’t tinted. Everything about him was Huge. Huge tires. Huge hands. Huge head. Huge beard.

Tiny ice-cream cone.

Finally, the traffic crowd rebelled and refused to let him in. It was my turn to get my revenge. I planned to speed up so there was no space between me and the other car. You know; not let him in as he pathetically sat on the shoulder of the freeway wondering why he was getting the cold-shoulder (pun intended). I decided to turn my radio back up, as I wasn’t angry anymore because apparently this idiot was getting what he deserved. I calmed down just as Pastor Christopher asked his congregation where the love was. Now I really felt bad, so I decided to let this ice-cream licking bandit go ahead of me. The people behind me beeped their horns in disgust as I betrayed them, but I didn’t care. Stromboli learned his lesson, I thought.

I watched him get in front of me, didn’t even waive me thank you. Jerk.

Then I watched him obnoxiously speed up and cut someone else off and he flung the ice-cream cone out of the window! Well, if this isn’t justice I don’t know what is; the ice-cream cone landed right on the windshield of a Dallas police car. Telling from how fast that police car pulled that moron over, I can tell you, he probably wasn’t listening to Pastor Christopher on the radio!