January of 2010
Probably because of all the fat drunk skiers, the mounties like to have check stops at the end of the sunshine village road every weekend now...so it takes at least an extra hour to get out of there. When people finally get to highway 1 they are so irate that it's a total need for speed, people drive like absolute maniacs right through the park because they are pissed off at the extra wait. You know how it is after a day at the hill, your tired, and hungry and have to take a giant shit. Needless to say if you're going 140 you get dusted.
So right before the park gates some loser investment banker type dipshit in a brand new white 3 series BMW absolutely refused to get out of the fast lane and was backing up traffic. Finally after waiting my turn I got the opportunity to deke around him and of course, like all the cars that passed him before me, I had to cut in front of him because he would speed up whenever he saw someone trying to pass. It wasn't anything spectacular; he probably had like 5-6 feet between his front bumper and my back one. No biggie happens every day on the Deerfoot. Everything was cool until a few kms up the road near Canmore where I notice these blueish xenon looking headlights coming up on my ass FAST so I mashed it. The company van I'm in is pretty quick for a mini; it has a 4.7L V6 and is gutted except for the two front seats so it hauls considerable ass. By the time I hit 160 (in seconds) I realize this dude is still coming up on me really fast so, like a respectful responsible motorist, I pull into the middle lane and let off the gas because there are cars ahead. This maniac is going at least 200 by now in the fast lane. He swerves at me to cut me off, missing me by inches. Having only focused on screwing me he now all of a sudden realizes how fast he's going and that there are cars directly ahead so he piles on the brakes. Now in the middle lane in front of me he's going way too fast and can't slow down in time to avoid rear ending the car ahead of him. The momentum of his high-speed swerve keeps him from being able to steer back to the fast lane so after a quick hesitation he continues the swerve across the slow lane narrowly missing the front of another minivan there and ends up on the shoulder. He was going so fast that he had enough impetus to overtake the cars ahead of me in the middle and slow lanes while on the shoulder while continuing to break. Having past them he lets off the brakes, pins it and swerves erratically across the 2 slow lanes and back into the fast, where he sits matching our speed. Can he see the irony in savagely cutting another innocent vehicle to avenge his being passed because he was going slow in the fast lane? Idiot.
At first I was like, "holy shit that was awesome!" It looked like a stunt scene from The Italian Job. I didn't really care that he almost hit me because it was cool to see someone driving a car that nice and new so recklessly. I couldn't believe he managed to keep it together, I thought for sure he was going to wreck. After a moment, impatient to get home I pulled out to pass the minivan that the guy almost rear ended (they were only going 130). As I overtake them I glance in and can see that the mother driving with her child passenger are shitting bricks and they look at me with pleading eyes that say "what the fuck?! Do something Mr.!". Big mistake to take my eyes of the road for even a few seconds. I looked forward just in time to see that the motherfucker ahead of me, realizing he now has me boxed in, has locked his tires up and I can see dust and debris clouding out of his wheel wells as his car decelerates rapidly. I swerve onto the shoulder while breaking to avoid the inevitable accident and to my amazement the son of a bitch does the same. Just as our bumpers are about to meet he swerves back into the fast lane while flooring it. I was an instant away from taking the ditch. Now I see red. I visualize doing the Edward Norton American History X curb stomp on this guys head on the side of the road while woman and child cheer me on.
Adrenaline pumping I find myself following this asshole at a reasonable few car lengths behind him in the fast lane. My dark mood lightens considerably when I read the yellow diamond placard in his back window that heralds the words "baby onboard". It's terrifying to consider that this nut job has dropped at least one steamer in the gene pool. He has upped the ante considerably and awaits my next move. I am calculating it. I am in a marked company vehicle. Unlike him I don't want to kill anyone else. I don't want to settle things with my vehicle like he does; I want to do it respectably by trading fists. I have not seen the driver of this car yet and for all I know he could be as big as Bob Sapp, but I don't care. I flash my brights and get his attention; I can see his eyes in the rearview mirror. I roll down my window and gesture plainly for him to pull over. He keeps staring at me. I can tell that he knows that I know that he understands what I want to do but he is too much of a vagina to duke it out, he's a big man safe in his car and the thought of leaving it terrifies him. Traffic is minimal now and I have the opportunity to pull up along side him, but he won't let me. When he cuts me off from pulling along side him in the slow lane, I lose a bit of composure begin to wildly gesture for him to pull over. Nothing. I pull off into the shoulder and start to slow down continuing to gesture simultaneously for him to do the same but he just keeps going. What a panty waist. Fuck it; I think to myself. He has backed down, I have won. I set my cruise to 140 and turn up the tunes. He makes sure he stays ahead of me; we continue on this way until Lac des Arcs where he finally gets up the gumption to confront me. He at last pulls into the slow lane allowing me pull along side. I oblige and just keep on cruising until I am directly beside him. As I pull up, his attempt at saving face is a middle finger pressed firmly against the glass. I finally catch a glimpse of the psychotic looking weasel man, the poor little bastard looks like Michael J Fox from Back to the Future 3 but he's got a flip up quazi-military frost tipped haircut complete with fake tan and is wearing a button up dress shirt. He must be at least 35. What a loser. I laugh at him, but his facial expression and hand gesture don't change. I mouth the words "pull over" and start boxing the air in my van. He does nothing. I mouth the words "you are a vagina" then grab my chest like I'm cupping giant boobs and point to him. Still nothing. Mr. BMW isn't so tough after all. As a final parting jib I shrug my shoulders as if to say "I don't really care either way, but you know if you gave me the opportunity you would be face down on the side of this highway in seconds". I resume my cruise and pull ahead, he follows me until I turn off onto Stoney Trail and he just keeps on driving. This encounter has no doubt left him feeling less manly and I feel sorry for his wife and kids who will be beaten unmercifully as soon as he steps through the door so he can recapture his sense of domination over others.
I wish I had thought to throw something heavy and damaging at his expensive little car. I thought about taking his plate and reporting him but that's a pussy move and would have put me in his class of vaginaman.