Steel Coffin: Americas automobile Addiction

Last Tuesday on Washington street I
was getting crowded by a big, fat, cherry-red SUV, so I tapped the side with my fingertips. The guy immediately swerved to try to hit me, then stopped, got out of the car and screamed at me: "Don't you even touch my fucking car again". The cop across the street did't do a thing; when I appealed for her help, she said "you shouldn't have touched his car." I guess in her eyes, his response was completely justified.

Mace might have helped me in this situation, but anything that would damage the Precious Road Rage Machine would probably have gotten me killed. Officer Unhelpful really would've hated that-- I understand deaths generate lots of paperwork.

Anyway, that's why I became a Critical Mass
convert. Thanks for letting me tell my story.

Cheers, Jen

P.S. Captain Road Rage was driving a Dodge Durango, I think, and the licence plate was XMT or XMJ and then three numbers. If anyone happens on his full licence plate number, feel free to contact me. And then stay away from this crazy bastard.