Identity Divulged

Driving from my favorite pizza place (Koronet, on 111th and B'way in Manhattan, featuring 14" slices for $3), I found myself on 113th St, heading for Riverside Drive. My unicycle club was meeting today, and I was heading there with my kids, a dozen unicycles, and some humungous pizza. Then trouble loomed in the shape of a car, and it was wearing Jersey plates.

The driver of the cream-colored SUV was waiting for a parking spot. She failed, however, to consider that I was waiting behind her or that she hadn't left room for anyone to pass her. Manhattan streets are almost unfailingly wide enough to allow passage even to a moving van, but this inconsiderate woman ignored my plaintive toots. Then she ignored the brief honks. Next she proceeded to ignore a few lengthy blasts. She did not, however, ignore my knuckles loudly rapping on her window a few seconds later.

Thru that glass, which she refused to lower, she tried to ask what was wrong. I shouted: "Move your car so I can pass!" She went back to her cell phone. I then got back into my car and moved it up to hers so that she was unable to back into the spot she had been waiting for. I rapped on her window again and waited for her to lower the glass an inch. New Jersey then asked,

"What's wrong with you?"

VoSMan: There is nothing wrong with ME. You're the one who wouldn't move your car to let me pass.

NJ: Who are you?

VosMan: I'm Voice of Society Man, and I'm speaking on behalf of everyone who has to wait behind an insensitive person like you! I'm here to teach you a lesson so that you won't do it again!

Then I moved the car to let her finish her parking, and we drove on to our destination. I had chilled her blood, but the pizza was still warm. We enjoyed every bite.

New Jersey, now chastened, can try to get on with her life. Perhaps she will find a way to atone. Volunteering as a traffic cop comes to mind.