Road Rage Dump Truck Man

Lane: Flashing your lights isn’t going to fix your window, but driving up next to me and flipping me off is? What idiot drives a sports car that close behind an old piece-of-crap dump truck like this and doesn’t expect rocks to drop down and rain destruction on your paint and windshield? (As sports car drives past, Lane shrugs.) Sorry… Yeah, like an apology is going to calm him down. Oh, you’re gonna swerve at me are ya? What the hell? (Lane swerves to the shoulder and slams on brakes as the red sports car slams on brakes in front of the loaded dump truck. A one-fingered salute appears through the sun roof.) Ten – thirteen – nineteen seconds! Thats the longest middle finger yet. Breathe, just breathe. Count to ten. (Talking to truck now.) It’s not like we can chase him down fully loaded. Just calm down. Oh shit, we’re going to pull up right behind him on the off ramp. Down shift early, take your time. I’m getting paid by the hour, I can milk this. Surely he’ll take off before I’m right behind him. Damn it! He stayed through a green. (Lane comes to a stop fifteen yards behind the BMW.) Two more green… and it’s red again. (Out steps a red faced man.) Here it comes.

BMW Man: (Mouthing foul words, walking towards truck and motioning to his car. Both middle fingers up. Man gets right in front of dump truck.) I’ll kill you!

Lane: (Lights up from attempted calm to extreme rage. Kicks the door open, uses momentum to sling himself out of the truck and towards the man at full speed.)

BMW Man: (Runs to open driver’s door and begins to drive off.)

Lane: (Jumps on the back of the sports car, grabs onto the spoiler and pounds twice on top of car. Car continues to accelerate through the intersection and down the straight of way. Lane bails off at about 40 mph, takes one step then another about twelve feet down the road, then tucks into a tight ball and rolls about 30 times. He gets up, road rash on his left forearm, and lots of people watching from cars all around. Lane runs back to his idling dump truck and takes off.) What a dick weed. I hope that doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass.

Scene Change to Construction Yard

Boss Man: Hey Lane, I need you to go get another load of gravel.

Lane: Can’t do it. I’ll get it tomorrow. (Turns away and heads towards the roller-compacter.)

Boss Man: What? We need another load to finish the job.

Lane: Can’t hear you. (Lane starts compacting gravel driveway.)

Stater: (Pulls up to job site and talks to Boss Man. Boss man points over to Lane. Stater motions Lane over.)

Lane: Whats the problem, sir?

Stater: I have a report that you attacked a man’s car, hit it twice and pulled his spoiler while he tried to drive away from you. Is that correct?

Lane: That part of the story is about ninety-percent correct.

Stater: (Lifts eyebrows, pen at the ready.)

Lane: I was driving on the freeway and a man in a red sport car pulls in front of me and slams on his brakes. I almost hit him, my truck was full of gravel. When I got to my exit he was there waiting. I drove slowly. He waited through three green lights, two of which we just sat there. He then got out of his car, walked towards me and yelled, “I will kill you.” What would you do if some one threatened to kill you?

Stater: (Face turns red, fist balls up.) No one threatens me, I’m a Highway Patrolman!

Lane: I’m sorry. After he did all those things and then threatened my life, I lost it.

Stater: No one threatens me! (A little calmer.) Did you know that his wife and child were in the car?

Lane: I only saw him, officer.

Stater: Are you going file a complaint?

Lane: No.

Stater: Are you going to retaliate in anyway?

Lane: No.

Stater: Okay. (Stater points at Lane.) No one threatens me. (Highway Patrolman turns away, walks back to his car, and drives away.)