Well now, how do you figure that, buddy?

I love being on vacation. However, I hate getting ready for them. There is always so much last minute stuff you can't do until....the last minute. All those little details to try not to forget. Like insulin. Walked out the door this time without my insulin. You'd think that would be the first thing that gets packed, wouldn't you?

On Friday I left for vacation. I had a 6:30 PM flight out of Indy to Kansas City, where my parents were going to meet me and then we'd drive a bit further before settling in for the night. I was tense during the day because there was very little buffer built into the day. If something went wrong it meant the carefully made plans would go out the window.

From the minute I woke up very little of my plans for the day happened as I planned them. Nothing major, just little things here and there that kept causing me to adjust my plans. I left work and headed to Jami's. I was to leave my car at her house and she was going to run me to the airport. It is a 2.75 hour drive. At about .25 hours my car starts giving me trouble. The kind of trouble where you ask yourself....do I keep going or turn around or stop or....? I decided to go. I had 2.5 hours to continue to let the tension build, and try to figure a plan B if I didn't make my flight.

My lunch plans never worked out so at this point it is going on 4:00 and I hadn't eaten since early morning. My car held out and I am two exits from turning off 465 and traveling the last few minutes to Jami's. I hit some minor construction traffic. I'm still somewhat OK on time. I'm all the way over in the right lane, so that when I get to my exit I'm ready. Traffic is trying to merge from the right onto 465 and I'm watching as the "every other car" thing is happening. There is a line trying to get onto 465 and a line already on 465. One car trying to merge gets let in, and then one car already on 465 pulls up a little, and is slowly repeated.

I get to the part where it is my turn to let a car in, which I do. Then a second one creeps in. Fine. I let him in. I begin to pick up speed to go with the flow of traffic, and I notice a THIRD car that is going to demand his way in. The guy is behind me at this point, and really having to work to catch up and pass me. It has become a game of chicken, because very soon his section of road is going to disappear and if he doesn't get ahead of me he is going over a small cliff.

This joker shows no sign of giving up, and I'm guessing that rather than go over the edge he's going to swerve left into my car at any second. As tense and as irritated as the day has left me, I have the presence of mind to do what it takes to get him safely into the flow of traffic on 465. I apply my brakes and slow down enough so that he can pass me and get in. I might have also applied my horn a bit as I was slowing down. And by "a bit" I mean, I held the horn down the entire time I was slowing down and he was pulling onto 465.

The gentleman in the car pulls ahead, scoots in and responds by...you guessed it. He flips me off. Not once, not twice, but three times. And not just with his hand. He gets his whole arm and upper part of his torso into the event. It is quite possible he tore or injured a muscle in his arm with the force he put into the gesture. Movement like that usually is safest when you warm up the body part first.

I thought to myself....well now, how do you figure that, buddy? You ignore the game traffic had been playing that says one car at a time gets on. You are so far behind me that I have to slow down to let you in. I kindly let you in rather than force you off the road, and when I communicate my slight frustration with a little tap on my horn, you flip me off. Really? You are irritated with me?

With the power of hindsight it probably would have been smarter not to use my horn. It really didn't help the situation and I didn't know the mental state of the person in the car ahead of me. It just never occurred to me as this guy was dangerously forcing his way on to 465 that I'd be the one flipped off. Lesson learned though. No need to honk my horn and add fuel to the fire.

In the end I made it to the airport with plenty of time. My flight got in a few minutes early and the rest of the night was smooth sailing.