In which FCOD defeats a self-important bitch, or "Who do you think you are, lady?"

First, let me set up the scene of the incident. On my commute home I drive over a one-lane bridge. Going home, the road I take (River Road, go figure) runs parallel to a canal. I make a right turn directly onto the bridge in question. Here’s a picture for the curious. There is a sign on the opposite side of the bridge that says, “Yield to oncoming traffic.” Traffic usually flows in a fashion that whichever direction is currently crossing the canal continues until all cars on that side have gone, which suits me perfectly. However, I assume that the yield sign is there to indicate that should two cars arrive at the bridge at the same time, the side with the sign should, well, yield to cars on the opposite bank.

Yesterday, I was driving home and listening to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban again, as I’ve been listening to the whole series from the beginning after having finished Deathly Hallows. Although my day had been long and stressful, I was in a good mood, and I felt like nothing could bother me. I arrived at the bridge and did not see any cars, which happens occasionally. Some days I have to wait a few minutes to cross the bridge, so I smiled at my good luck and slowly proceeded onto the bridge.

You should understand that while you can see cars that are on the bridge, the view of the road leading up to the other side of the crossing is obstructed until you are actually on the bridge. As soon as my rear wheels crossed the threshold onto the wooden slats a woman in a black Mercedes coming towards me blew past the yield sign and stopped short on her side of the bridge. Right away I could tell I was in for a treat today. I turned off Harry Potter.

So, there I was, staring a 50+ year old woman in the face, sizing her up. The look on her face was one of “Get out of my way, peon!” I immediately decided that I was not in a hurry and didn’t feel like backing up. After all, I had the right-of-way, and it was obvious that I was the first one on the bridge. I pointed gently to the disregarded yield sign and mouthed, “You have to yield to me.” The Queen of the Bridge did not like this insolent behavior and started pointing at me and yelling something. I shook my head calmly and put my hands up as if to say, “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak your language.” This seemed to aggravate her to no end. She continued yelling and started inching her shiny black car towards me threateningly. Once again I motioned that I did not understand what she wanted and did not move.

In the 30 seconds that had passed since the battle of wills began, a few cars had pulled up on the woman’s side of the bridge. The first car in line had stopped at the yield sign, giving the woman plenty of room to backup, should she decide that she wasn’t the the most important person in the world. This pleased me, as I did not want to be forced to lose the scuffle due to another car blocking her only way out. My satisfaction quickly turned to twisted delight as a pickup truck pulled up behind me, right up to my bumper! “Aha!” I thought, “You have no choice now, you arrogant bitch!” My new ally waited about one second before banging on his horn like a five-year-old child with a new drum set. The Emperor of the Canal knew she was defeated. With much frantic hand waving and yelling, she retreated onto solid ground. I could not resist sweetening my victory, so I rolled down my window as I drove slowly past. “I’m sorry ma’am, but you had a yield sign and I did not,” came my relaxed declaration. The response I received was a hysterical, “YOU HAD A YIELD SIGN TOO, ASSHOLE!!!” I laughed at this preposterous statement and continued on my way.

As I drove past the four or five cars that had lined up behind my ousted opponent, I received two or three looks of bemused understanding. I turned Harry Potter back on and drove home with that rare sense of satisfaction that one can only get by knocking a true egomaniac down a few notches and getting away with it unscathed.


But, she had a Mercedes. Don’t you understand what that means??
<snerk> I’d love to hear this tale from her point of view, you… you… peon!

I know that bridge. Yesterday I was on my way to my Suburbanite Men in Drag convention, in my black Mercedes. Some asshole decided to cross the bridge at the same time as me. I tried to tell this jerk to back up, but they just threw up their arms like they didn’t understand plain English. I finally had to back down. As this jerk passed me, I yelled “YOU HAD A YIELD SIGN TOO, ASSHOLE!!!” And they just laughed.

Sheesh, some people.

Just for grins you could doctor that sign to read

“Mercedes must
Yield to oncoming traffic”

I’d love to see her face next time she pulled up to that.
lieu - a damn considerate, positively pleasant, yield givin’ Mercedes driver.

Good one, lieu! I should mention that both in-laws drive Mercedes, so I don’t automatically assume that someone that owns one is a pompous ass.


Not much to ad, but recently I had this experience. I went to the mall and parking, as usual, was at a premium. There was an SUV parked in a spot with the passenger side right on the line, meaning if I wanted to park my car (yes, also an SUV) I would need to get really close. But, like I said, parking was at a premium, and it was the passenger side. Because of her (or his) skewed parking there was a ton of access on the driver’s side. So, I backed in with my passenger side right against his (or her) passenger side, but leaving enough of a space between the mirrors to more than easily drive out. When I got back to my car there was a note on the windshield: “Next time leave a fucking can opener so I can get into my car, asshole!”

Ummmm, you’re parked on the line, it’s the passenger side so even if you did in fact have a passenger, you could have just climbed in first, started the car and moved ahead 3 feet! Man, some people are incredibly selfish and rude.

You’re such a jerk. If the both of you had yielded like you were supposed to, you’d both still be there, as the presence of the yield signs clearly intended.

I hate it when drivers do something wrong and then treat me like I’m the one who was in the wrong. Some bitch almost hit me after trying to run a stop sign and she appeared to be upset that I had the audacity to be in her way. Some people.

Congrats on not having to back down. :slight_smile:

Heh… I posted a different Dane Cook quote in another thread earlier today, but this one applies to this thread too.

Maybe it is funnier to listen to it.


Reminds me of something that happened back when I was 15 or 16.

It was in winter, and there was a couple of feet of snow in Salt Lake. That’s more than normal, but not unusual. The roads were slightly icey as well.

The street in front of our home had a wide medien grass strip, so that there was only one lane in each direction, separated by the strip, which was covered with a couple feet of snow.

My neighbor had started to pull into the traffic lane from a parking spot in front of her house, and was hit by a car coming up the hill. She and her three fellow elderly Greek women get out and start an argument with the other driver. Cars start to back up but both are claiming to be in the right, so no one will move their car.

I call the police for them, and then my sister and I help the other cars back up to the intercection down to the corner and from there they can take a cross street. We then start to wave off other cars so they don’t get into a similar predicument.

Most cars go either right or left, as we indicated for them, and one or two rolled up and asked what the problem was, before then taking the cross street.

Then, along come The Dude in The Hot Car, which I don’t remember exactly what it was. He sees two teenagers standing in the road, waving at them, then giving the signals for going right or left and honks. He never breaks or slows, with this “Get the fuck out of my way, punks” look on his face.

We wave again and jump back and he proceeds up the 125 yards to where the accident is still blocking the roard.

He finds his horn, then finds it again. And again. In the meanwhile being the smartass teenager I was, (in contrast to being the smartass adult I am now), let a couple more cars go through, just to complicate the situation. However, childishness has it’s limits, so we go back to waving off cars.

Back uphill, it takes a few rounds of horn a people getting out of cars to figure out that no one is going through that mess, so the cars need to back down to where we are in order to take the cross street.

Finally, The Dude in The Hot Car makes it down and we give him the biggest grins. Yup, sometimes even punks can be right.

:: Stands to applaud! ::

You do realize I was being all sarcastical, for effect, and stuff. I mean, some of my best friends… I mean, um, well, my favorite boss drove a Mercedes, and so does one of my sisters, and, um, er… You know it was a joke, right?

We’ve got a message board on a local community website that’s the electronic equivalent of talking over the back fence to the neighbors, sorta. And in this part of Maryland, there’s a very visible Amish presence, evidenced by wide shoulders with horse doody along most main roads, although not all.

One day, some guy posted on the board complaining about having to slow down behind a buggy on a narrow street. I’ve had this happen to me a few times, and generally there’s little oncoming traffic, so it’s pretty easy to pass the buggy, especially since you know they’re not going to speed up when you start to pass… Anyway, just about everyone on the board told him to quit being a whiner. The 23 seconds he lost because he had to slow down and wait to pass was lots less than he spent bitching about it on line, and you just know he ranted to anyone who would listen IRL.

My point, if I have one, is that some people have the weirdest senses of entitlement. Also, don’t ride your bike behind an Amish buggy - you might skid on horse doody.