how i almost died today. maybe.

earlier this evening, john and i were on our way to work.
we were in my car, but he was driving--because, when given the opportunity, i will ALWAYS choose to not drive.

i guess we were about half way to work, on the express-way. i'm not really sure what was going on, because i was happily lost in tiffanyland--thinking about some nonsense or another--when i noticed that john was yelling at someone.
i was pretty sure it wasn't me, because he was yelling 'climb out of my asshole, fucker,' or something to that effect, while i was clearly strapped into the passenger seat, nowhere near his asshole. and i think we can all be glad of that.

anyhow, i decided that perhaps i should start paying attention to what was going on.

see, there's this weird thing about john.
he is, hands down, the most mellow and laid back person WHO HAS EVER WALKED THE EARTH.
i swear, this man NEVER gets angry.
the only time he ever raises his voice is to yell at inanimate objects, or people driving cars around him. but, should you be an inanimate object or a person driving a car around him?
you better watch out.
once, we got into his car to go someplace or another, and he got irritated because his windshield wiper wasn't wiping the snow off as well as he would have liked.
and, i'm totally not kidding, he got out the car, tore the windshield wiper off, and started beating the car with it. then he swore at it, tossed it on the ground, and got back in the car.
then we really couldn't see, but whatever.
i think he felt better.
kind of.

anyway, i looked around and figured out that we were in the 'fast' lane of a two lane express way, and we were only going 70 miles an hour. the car behind us was, indeed, nearly in our trunk--but still, the speed limit was 70, so i guess maybe we should have been going a little faster.

~a re-enactment~

me: baby, we're only going 70. maybe we should get over.

john: fuck getting over. i'm passing someone.

me, inwardly: then fucking speed up to 72, and be done with it.

me, outwardly: ***silence***

at this point, we could have gotten around the car we were passing, but instead, john slows down to 65 miles an hour. and then he slams on the brakes. like, REALLY slams them on. my head almost hit the windshield, because i always put the shoulder strap behind the seat. so, you know, i'm not properly restrained. i honestly have no idea how the car behind us didn't plow into us, he slammed the brakes THAT hard. as an extra safety bonus, only one of john's hands was actually on the wheel, because the other hand was busy giving an extended version of 'the bird.'
i was not happy.
can you tell?
oh, also, at some point the car started flashing it's brights at us, but i can't remember exactly where that part goes.
anyway, then the car behind us was finally able to slip up next to us, where he returned the bird, and lovingly checked left towards our car. mind you, we were driving past the mall exit at this point. it was dark out, and there were cars EVERYWHERE--not much room for error, you know? the funny part was that, just yesterday, i heard this story about a guy who was road-raging with someone--he pulled over, thinking he would fight with the other guy, but the other guy pulled up and pinned the first guy's car against the little cement wall thinger on the highway. then he leaned over and shot a gun into the car. the first guy saw the gun and ducked, so the bullet hit--and killed--his pregnant wife.
so, yeah. that's what i'm thinking about the entire time this is happening. you know, apart from thinking that this guy is going to ram into us, and we're going to be killed that way.
i swear, as the guy is pulling up next to us, i was thinking, i fucking hope this guy fucking shoots me right now, and john has to call my mother and be all 'i'm sorry, but tiffany is dead because i'm a road-raging lunatic.'
then the car got in front of us, and started speeding away.
john started going a little over 80 miles an hour, so we could ride the other guy's ass just like he had been riding ours. john also flashed the brights on and off, as he speeded toward the other car.
and then i lost it.

me, yelling: baby, i am in the car, too! please do not endanger my life!

i then start crying really hard, which only pisses me off more because i was ruining my make-up and would have to look like a red puffy mess for the rest of the night.

john: i'm not endangering your life!

me: yes, you are! ***sob, gulp, sniff***

~end re-enactment~

of course, john immediately got in the slow lane. we got off the higway, and he put his hand on my leg and rubbed it soothingly the rest of the way to work.

and i'm not mad at him, at all.
i just had to tell you the story because a)it REALLY freaked me out, and b)i know that, even though he apologized, inside john is all 'damn girls, scared of everything, i could have won that fight.' so i'm just wondering, am i crazy? wait--let me re-phrase.
am i crazy about this particular situation?
isn't it unsafe to do things like this?

let me know.
and, while you're at it, enjoy your christmas eve.
just think about all the crazy family stories i'll have for you soon!