What the actual *#$&@*

I apologize in advance.  There is no grace in this post; inhaled, exhaled, or otherwise.

I was driving down the road in my minivan with my eleven year old son riding shotgun. We were on our way back from an appointment with his therapist, and we were enjoying each other’s company. We were singing in the car.

We weren’t just singing along; we were rocking out. We were laughing and gesturing and enjoying ourselves. It was a two lane road, and a silver pickup passed us on the left. I made brief eye contact with the driver, and I smiled, a little embarrassed to be ‘caught’ singing like that.

We kept driving. But I could feel the truck hovering right next to me on the left. He wasn’t passing. He wasn’t slipping behind. He was matching my speed, which seemed a little odd. For a moment, I resisted the temptation to look over.   I didn’t really want to make eye contact again. But his truck continued to travel parallel to my minivan, and I eventually glanced over to try to figure out what was going on.

It was a blur, and it took me a moment to realize what was happening. The look on his face was the first indicator. He was making one of those creepy come-on faces, with big eyes and wiggly eyebrows and his mouth a little open. He gestured to his phone screen. He was trying to show me something, but all I saw was a blur… a flesh-colored blur. Then he gestured again; more explicitly this time. This creep saw the shocked look on my face as I realized what he was showing me, and he laughed. I sped up and turned down a side street, praying that he didn’t follow me, and that my kid didn’t realize what had just happened.

The whole thing left me grossly unsettled. What the actual eff?!?!?   I should’ve gotten his license plate number, but I didn’t. Would I have called the cops? I’m not sure. Because I began second guessing myself immediately.

Are you sure of what you saw? Why were you even looking at him? Did you do anything to suggest you might be interested? And that’s the most ridiculous thing of all. I’m programmed to check MYSELF. My first instinct is to question whether MY behavior somehow encouraged this asshole. I was in a minivan. During rush hour. With my son. There was no communication. There was no suggestive language. It didn’t matter what I was wearing, because he couldn’t even see.

And, goddamn it. Even if I was wearing a miniskirt and throwing back tequila shots and flirting with this guy, it STILL would’ve been grossly unacceptable behavior.

I am SO GODDAMNED ANGRY right now.