On Saturday, Chris and I were in Portland driving down a fairly busy street. We had the right of way, and were cruising along, when a car that was at a cross street decided they were going to try to cross the street and gunned it. I am fairly sure that the woman driving did not see us. Chris slammed on the brakes, and laid on the horn and they came inches from hitting us.
We drove on. I turned back to look at the car that almost hit us. Partly because I was pissed beyond belief, and partly because I wanted to make eye contact with the driver. At that moment, all I could think about was the fact that they would have slammed into us right at the driver side door. Right into Chris. So I had reason to be livid. When I looked back, the woman driving the car was LAUGHING. I wanted to have Chris cross over three lanes, turn right immediately, and find them. (That would be my father’s anger coming out of me). I wanted them to know that my heart was jumping out of my body, that everything in our backseat was on the floor or under our front seats due to how hard Chris had to brake.
Turning and looking at the driver all happened in a matter of five seconds. Yet, for the rest of the day, the woman laughing is what kept coming back into my thoughts. Why would she have been laughing? Was she nervous that she almost crashed into us? Was she too into her conversation that she did not even care that she almost caused an accident? Was she mocking me looking back at her with a scowl on my face?
Chris is precious cargo to me. Food for thought. Watch the road when driving. We all have precious cargo inside.