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Crazy bastard driver
Oct. 7th, 2003 08:46 amWhew. I'm still shaky.
Okay, here's the story. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I borrow my parents' car and drive Sebastian up to spend the day with them. You see, my parents live only a couple of miles from where I work.
That way, Teri gets a couple of days off, and my folks and Sebastian get to have some fun together. It's a long drive (90 minutes to two hours each way), but it's worth it.
Incidentally, the reason I don't drive one of our cars is that the Neon isn't trustworthy enough for a long drive with the baby, and the van gets lousy mpgs and is also probably not dependable. Plus, parking in Boston is ridiculously expensive.
Eventually we'll probably try to get Sebastian used to riding on the train with me, but we're not at that point yet.
Anyway, I was driving with Sebastian this morning. We were close to our destination, only fifteen minutes away. The trip had been a good one; I'd guessed right on what route to take, so we'd made excellent time with relatively light traffic. And Sebastian had stayed cheerful throughout.
So we're stopped at the light where Cypress St. crosses route 9 in Brookline. There are, of course, many cars stopped ahead of us; we were in line. Suddenly I felt a heavy *BUMP* and our car lurched forward. I looked back, and a black minivan had made solid contact with our rear bumper. I looked at the driver. He was older, probably in his sixties, balding, with grayish hair and a small mustache. He looked at me and made a face like "What's your problem, asshole?".
I pulled forward a little, and a second later he rammed me again, harder. Not enough to cause damage, but it was definitely a hard hit. I opened the door and looked back at him. "What's your problem?" he shouted.
"You're HITTING me, you crazy bastard!" I shouted at the top of my lungs (I can be surprisingly loud). He made a "eh" face and ignored me. Then he hit me again.
Sebastian was getting a bit upset. He started making faces, and talking about a "stinky truck" that needed "diapy on". I tried to calm down and say some relaxing things to him.
At that point the light turned green, so I stepped on the gas and got moving. The minivan ran the red light behind me and came after me. He got pretty damn close to me a few times, but eventually I reached a light where I got in lane to take a left turn, and he went straight. As he went by he screamed something at me, but I couldn't make it out. I didn't even give him the finger.
I swear, until this guy started ramming my rear bumper I had no idea who he was. I hadn't cut him off, hadn't made eye contact, wasn't even aware he was there except as a car behind me. And I was driving totally normally.
Anyway, I got his license plate: 214 GMV, a standard green MA plate. He was in his late 50's to 60's, balding, gray hair with a bit of black, and a relatively small mustache - not Hitler style, but kind of like the Dunkin' Donuts guy. Normal weight range, slightly longish face. No beard that I could see. He was driving a black Dodge minivan, a relatively new model. Last seen heading down Cypress St. towards downtown Brookline and Boston.
I called the Brookline police when I got to my parents' place, and they were spectacularly unhelpful, as the police so often are in these situations. There was nothing they could do, since he hadn't caused damage. I suggested that the guy was a menace to other drivers, but "there's nothing we can do" is a favorite catchphrase with the police. Finally they said they'd keep an eye out for him (yeah, right) and that was it.
Sebastian's fine. I'm still a little shaky and pissed off. What a psycho!
Okay, here's the story. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I borrow my parents' car and drive Sebastian up to spend the day with them. You see, my parents live only a couple of miles from where I work.
That way, Teri gets a couple of days off, and my folks and Sebastian get to have some fun together. It's a long drive (90 minutes to two hours each way), but it's worth it.
Incidentally, the reason I don't drive one of our cars is that the Neon isn't trustworthy enough for a long drive with the baby, and the van gets lousy mpgs and is also probably not dependable. Plus, parking in Boston is ridiculously expensive.
Eventually we'll probably try to get Sebastian used to riding on the train with me, but we're not at that point yet.
Anyway, I was driving with Sebastian this morning. We were close to our destination, only fifteen minutes away. The trip had been a good one; I'd guessed right on what route to take, so we'd made excellent time with relatively light traffic. And Sebastian had stayed cheerful throughout.
So we're stopped at the light where Cypress St. crosses route 9 in Brookline. There are, of course, many cars stopped ahead of us; we were in line. Suddenly I felt a heavy *BUMP* and our car lurched forward. I looked back, and a black minivan had made solid contact with our rear bumper. I looked at the driver. He was older, probably in his sixties, balding, with grayish hair and a small mustache. He looked at me and made a face like "What's your problem, asshole?".
I pulled forward a little, and a second later he rammed me again, harder. Not enough to cause damage, but it was definitely a hard hit. I opened the door and looked back at him. "What's your problem?" he shouted.
"You're HITTING me, you crazy bastard!" I shouted at the top of my lungs (I can be surprisingly loud). He made a "eh" face and ignored me. Then he hit me again.
Sebastian was getting a bit upset. He started making faces, and talking about a "stinky truck" that needed "diapy on". I tried to calm down and say some relaxing things to him.
At that point the light turned green, so I stepped on the gas and got moving. The minivan ran the red light behind me and came after me. He got pretty damn close to me a few times, but eventually I reached a light where I got in lane to take a left turn, and he went straight. As he went by he screamed something at me, but I couldn't make it out. I didn't even give him the finger.
I swear, until this guy started ramming my rear bumper I had no idea who he was. I hadn't cut him off, hadn't made eye contact, wasn't even aware he was there except as a car behind me. And I was driving totally normally.
Anyway, I got his license plate: 214 GMV, a standard green MA plate. He was in his late 50's to 60's, balding, gray hair with a bit of black, and a relatively small mustache - not Hitler style, but kind of like the Dunkin' Donuts guy. Normal weight range, slightly longish face. No beard that I could see. He was driving a black Dodge minivan, a relatively new model. Last seen heading down Cypress St. towards downtown Brookline and Boston.
I called the Brookline police when I got to my parents' place, and they were spectacularly unhelpful, as the police so often are in these situations. There was nothing they could do, since he hadn't caused damage. I suggested that the guy was a menace to other drivers, but "there's nothing we can do" is a favorite catchphrase with the police. Finally they said they'd keep an eye out for him (yeah, right) and that was it.
Sebastian's fine. I'm still a little shaky and pissed off. What a psycho!
