It was going to be a splendid morning; I awoke early, read, caught up on the Guardian UK and the BBC as well as Livejournal, played a few decent Scrabble moves, drank a few cups of coffee and remembered to send off my Netflix and to grab my lunch. Birds chirping? Check. 65 degrees and sunny with an ocean breeze? Check. I managed to catch almost every green light for the first ten minutes or so of my fifteen minute commute until I got to the madness that is the intersection at the Beachmont subway station. Boston, in its infinite wisdom, zoned this baby while someone was hitting the absinthe. Train station, two bus stops, 5 way intersection, commuter lot, taxi stand and (admittedly more recent) a Dunkin Donuts with a parking lot the size of a Brooklyn backyard. These factors coupled with the fact that the lights at this intersection work on a Fuck-You basis meaning that the green arrows seem to actually last negative time. So I’m sitting back, mellowed out to Panda Bear and actually looking forward to getting to work, watching as the car in front of me performs Edge (wherein said vehicle keeps edging out into the intersection waiting for the green light) when the light changes and WHAMMO, a horn blasts screamingly loud and repeatedly from the car behind me. And the Edger-Outer? Caught unawares, his car lurches forward and promptly stalls. The Beeper? Oh, this has really set him off and the horn blasts again. The Edger-Outer gets his car in gear and careens through the intersection just as the green arrow turns red. I can feel the Honkers steaming hatred piercing through my hatchback. I step on it as soon as I can and come to the next light, only to find the Edger-Outer idling next to me. I glance at him quickly, wanting to share a conspiratorial eye-roll but he is rolling down his window and flicking out a cigarette. Just then the light turns green and as he surges ahead he slowly flips his hand upwards, giving me The Finger. Not only was it The Finger it was the Everlasting Finger, the kind that travels far up the road and is the equivalent of him screaming obscenities for blocks. It was intense and smacked of a burning hatred.

I drove on in horror. I had totally been falsely accused of annoyingness. Now I will be the first to admit that I apply liberal use of my horn when it is warranted but this was both undeserved and truly unjust. I knew that I would be the subject of his first conversation this morning peppered with a variety of swears and animal names. Sometimes I revel in that thought but only when I know I am in the right. Mood sufficiently shattered I drove on only to then face the Great Dunlin-Donuts Debacle. I won’t go into that now, suffice to say I am at the point where I am wondering if it is too early for a beer.