ode to the taxi man

dear mr. taxi-driver-man,

are those glasses you wearing up to date? can you, by chance, see the road you are driving on? i only ask these questions because you nearly slammed into the side of my car this afternoon going something to the order of 60mph... those kind of things will cause a girl to ask questions. again, i am stressing the sight-thing, because i clearly had a green light and you clearly had a red light. not yellow. not pink. red. and yet, you still managed to build up enough speed to cause me to have to swerve out of my lane.

were you, by any chance, in a hurry? a really great hurry? because the manner in which you were conducting your very beat-up cab would evidence some sort of urgency... and yet, once you had nearly run me off the road, you slowed down to a near-crawl. this - dear sir - would not only cause a girl to ask certain questions, but it would almost always cause the aforementioned girl to draw the conclusion that you are an unrelenting, semi-blind, asshole. yes, i think 'asshole' will suffice. am i correct in assuming this? or am i being rash? are you just stupid? or blind (in which case, you really shouldn't be behind the wheel of a moving vehicle... just an observation)?

i look forward to never having to encounter you on the road, and i offer my most sincere pity to anyone who has the misfortune to step into your ill-fated cab.

yours truly -

the girl you nearly smashed