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Dear Jaguar Driver

You ma’am are a bitch.  With a capital B.  Do you think because you drive a fancy, expensive foreign car you’re better than me?  More important?  I drive a beat up old Chevy Suburban.  I’d put it up against your Jag any day of the week.  Perhaps not in a race, but I’m not all that partial to speed.  If it came to a collision though, I imagine my Suburban would drive away and you’d be calling for a tow.

I was not creeping along slowly just to piss you off.  I realize that’s probably what it looked like from behind, since your effin’ car is so low you couldn’t see around mine.  I’d say that’s your problem and it’s no excuse for honking your horn rudely.  For your information, there was a pedestrian walking in front of me.  And I do mean in front of me.  She got out of the car in front of me, which turned the corner and I wound up stuck at the light.  When the light changed and I proceeded she was walking in the middle of the street toward the train station.  I wasn’t inclined to run her down so you could get to a parking space two minutes sooner!

Be glad I’m recovering from three nights of very little sleep Bitch.  I’d have been happy to track you down after we parked and given you a lesson in civility.  Mind your manners in the future, or I may have to come find your pretty little cat and do some scratching of my own!

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