First of all, MIKEFOX, let me tell you how much I admire people with vanity tags, especially ones that spell out their own names. I imagine it’s so you can figure out which car is yours in the parking lot. But I guess it’s fortunate for me — it gives me a chance to address this to you.
Not that I haven’t considered vanity tags myself. In fact, I’ve thought up some really hysterical ones that play off my name, and others that combine my name with the model of the car — Oh! they are funny. But I won’t bore you with them here. See, every time I start to seriously contemplate applying for those tags, I punch myself in the face as hard as I can, just to remind me why I should never do that. Apparently nobody punched you in the face soon enough, so you shall be known to all who cruise down I-270 and around the Capitol beltway as MIKEFOX. (Maryland tag MIKEFOX, I should specifiy — there may also be a Virginia tag MIKEFOX but I don’t want to get them involved.)
Yes, you daftly demonstrated how you could maneuver your Lexus GS350 as you virtually merged into me getting from the HOV lanes on the 270-spur to bear right onto 495. Cut off is too gentle a word — your rear wheel and my front wheel were about to become one wheel until I tapped the brakes. I hope you didn’t interpret my hand gesture rudely — I was simply holding my hand out in front of me like a serving plate towards your rear-view mirror (not that you’d regard your mirrors): “This space is kindly reserved for you, MIKEFOX,” — that’s all I was saying. Not a stray finger was extended…
I was pretty sure you got the point since you then proceeded to slow down and drive within the posted limits IN THE PASSING LANE… ON 495… It had to be a conscious gesture, as driving that slow in the far left on 495 is a death wish, an invitation to be overrun. A moment later you confirmed that too, and I bet your pants got all tight when you dropped the hammer, belched out a puff of black smoke from your tinny Japanese exhaust, and accelerated left into the merge lane. A beautiful display. Seriously, I have done a lot of pointless, aggressive things in my car (you have to when it’s a precision-engineered sports coupe as Blue as a Smurf’s birthday suit), but the random “slow down, then gun it” thing has always escaped me — it’s just never been my thing. Luckily I didn’t have to put my car in Sport-mode or drop into 5th gear to match your pace after your short lead. I knew the merge lane would end soon enough.
And it did, and just as you did with me, you cut off another car. This time a hapless minivan. Wow MIKEFOX, you must have really felt a rush of superiority racing a Chrysler Town and Country and scaring a soccer-mom. Nice. I dropped into the lane causally behind the van, no need to cause a scene. You can imagine my surprise when I passed you a few miles later, me cruising at normal Beltway speeds and you meandering in the FAR LEFT LANE. Again. Ugh.
So how is that 2007 Lexus GS350? It sure is a pretty car. Was it your wife that said you could go for the GS350, or did you get it to impress your girlfriend? How is your midlife crisis treating you, MIKEFOX? Must be pretty treating you pretty well. I have to wonder, did you cut me off because of the way I was flirting with that G35 back on 270? I know you had command position in the left lane, and I darted up the two right lanes which were flowing alternatingly left and right, the G35 chasing and passing in a little dance, two youngsters playing while the crusty old guy sits behind a row of traffic in the left hand lane… I really love it when I catch a flow between traffic like that, it’s fast and it’s fun. And I’m not so aggressive that anyone would get hurt… and the G35 veered off to the right towards Virginia, another all-too-brief morning-commute interlude.
Is that what you miss MIKEFOX? Is that why you felt the need to catch up later with your raw straight-line acceleration, and why you’re so angry that you cut people off? Or is it that you don’t know how far your back-end extends? Middle age can do that to you MIKEFOX — I learned this the hard way: if your slacks look short, you aren’t getting taller, your ass is getting big. It’s true. I’m not sure if I’m talking about your butt or your bumper at this point, but really, it’s all the same.
Maybe our paths will cross again, MIKEFOX. Maybe I won’t notice because you’ll blend in with all the other dirty-black Lexi and Toyoti on the roads… but if I see your tags, Maryland: MIKEFOX, I’ll be sure to tip my hat and clear the way. God speed.
[btw, if by some bizarre twist of fate MIKEFOX = Michael J. Fox, let me retract this whole thing and just say that I idolized Alex P. Keaton growing up and I sincerely hope you kick Parkinson’s ass.]