Blame it on Friday the 13th

Yet another episode of Christine's Commute: Ass Clowns:

• A dude in a silver Beamer came barreling out of the side road in Bolton Center where the flashing yellow light is and cut me off. I gave him a healthy honk of the horn, and he waved to me. And waved to me. And kept waving to me as if to piss me off, so intently that he came thisclose to hitting a car that stopped short in front of him and had to swerve to avoid hitting him. Causing me to swerve and exacerbating the situation. Concentrate on driving, fellow road rager.
  
• A chickie in a silver Mazda (maybe it's a color trend) was so intent on brushing her hair and chatting on the cell that she wasn't modulating her speed. She kept tailgating me, one of my biggest pet peeves. So I slammed on my brakes and indicated she should back off (yes, in a polite way). She did, but then proceeded to drive up my ass again. Slam on brakes, tell her to back off. Lather, rinse, repeat. I got so annoyed that I pulled over for her to go around and gave her the one-finger salute. Grr.

Ah well. At least it's Friday. Weekend plans? We're laying low and building a g-d ark for Monday.