Driver #1, Crazy Driver, and My Wife...

I recently had my very first run in with someone who I believe is certifiably batsh*t crazy. It happened a few weeks ago one morning when my wife and I were on our way to work. We normally follow each other until I reach my office; she works a little farther into the city, so she continues on, obviously, until she reaches her office.

Anyway, this particular morning, she made a turn onto a street she normally doesn't turn on, which puzzled me. So, I sent her a text message asking her where she was going. She responded by saying that she really didn't know why she'd turned and hadn't even realized she'd done it until receiving my text message. I let it go at that.

Five minutes later, she called me and, when I answered, told me she had been "in a wreck". I asked her where she was, told her to stay in the car and that I would be there as soon as I could. She proceeded to tell me that she had turned onto the highway, which was heavily congested with traffic. Everyone was crawling along at a snail's pace when the truck in front of her tapped the bumper of the vehicle in front of him. My wife hit the brakes, stopping so close to the bumper of the truck in front of her that she couldn't be sure if she made contact with it or not. For clarification purposes, I will refer to the driver whose vehicle's bumper was tapped as "Driver #1" and the driver my wife thought she might have hit as "Crazy Driver".

When the other two vehicles pulled over, she decided to err on the side of caution and pull over, too. She sat in the car for a few minutes, thinking one of the two other drivers involved would get out to begin the process of checking the damage and exchanging insurance info and blah-blah-blah. That's not what happened.

Crazy Driver didn't get out; he just sat there, not moving. Driver #1 did get out, however, checked the damage and walked back to Crazy Driver's truck. After seeing Driver #1 get out, my wife got out and walked up to the driver's side window of Crazy Driver's truck (this is where the story took a detour from Run of the Mill Avenue onto Bizzaro Drive). Crazy Driver rolled his window down, looked at my wife and called her a "white motherf**ker". He then looked at Driver #1 (which is what caused this whole mess in the first place) , called him a "black motherf**ker" and said, "call the police", before rolling up his window. So...my wife and Driver #1 looked at each other for a second or two in disbelief at what Crazy Driver had just said, turned and went back to their respective vehicles.

Now, when I heard this, my blood began to boil. I knew I wouldn't be able to control my temper when I got there, but at the time, I didn't care. Someone had just called my wife a disgusting name, and that someone was about to pay for it.

When I pulled up, I checked on my wife, who looked fantastic. Then I checked the front bumper of her car and found...nothing. Not a scratch. My wife drives a Toyota Camry, which has a plastic bumper designed to give way and absorb energy in the event of a frontal collision. If she would've tapped Crazy Driver's bumper, there would have been some kind of mark.

Moving right along, my next stop was the rear bumper of Crazy Driver's truck. Again, no damage anywhere. Now, my blood was really boiling over. I ignored my wife's pleas to get in her car and walked up to Crazy Driver's window. He was sitting in his truck, arms folded, staring straight ahead. After ten or fifteen seconds, he looked at me and I asked him to roll his window down so we could talk, to which he responded with, "Aw, f**k you!" My response? I gave him the middle finger and turned to walk away.

My memory after that point is a little blurry, but the next thing I know, I'm demanding that Crazy Driver show me some evidence that my wife hit him, which caused him to begin showing signs that he was genuinely mentally unstable. I remember him cursing at me and my wife getting between him and I. I remember threatening to knock the glasses off of his face and him taking the glasses off and throwing them into traffic on the highway. I remember me trying to keep him from groping my wife while he sobbed, "Please don't let him kill me, please!!" I also remember him screaming random things like, "Jesus is Jehovah!!" and, "F*ck Jimmy Swaggart!!" I was content to let it continue to escalate to the point where I actually saw a chance to throw a punch at the turd.

That is, until I saw my wife's face. She was crying and obviously scared and, since I couldn't get her out of there, we got in her car and sat there until the police arrived. Crazy Driver didn't make the State trooper wait very long before revealing his batsh*t craziness. While the trooper was asking my wife questions about the accident, Crazy Driver got out of his truck and started screaming, "Hey faggot! Hey, you! Faggot!"

The trooper reacted as you might expect. He was clearly in shock at what Crazy Driver had just said, but the shock quickly turned to rage as he got right in Crazy Driver's face and screamed, "You better calm the f*ck down, buddy!" The next few minutes were consumed by the trooper trying to get Crazy Driver under control, after which the trooper took one glance at my wife's bumper and Crazy Driver's bumper before telling us we could go. The trooper's parting comment brought it all home: "You didn't hit him and, if you did, he wouldn't have known it anyway."

What's the moral of this long story? I have no idea...