So there I was, driving up Main Street, minding my own business and toting pizza home from our favorite 'za joint.
Behind me, an asshole.*
Main Street is a four-lane road through downtown O'Fallon, so there are plenty of opportunities to pass. At the time I was driving 40 miles per hour (speed limit is 30) and was keeping pace with other cars around me.
The guy behind me was apparently in a hurry to get somewhere, so he figured driving about a foot from my rear bumper would help him reach his destination in a timely manner. Combined with swerving back and forth, backing off and then gunning his engine to get to within inches of my bumper, he was carefully sculpting his star on the Jagoff Walk of Fame.
Of course this called for The Tapping of the Brakes. "Back off, Mario."
This apparently turned out to be the straw that broke the azzhole's back.
Gestures flew, he started beating his dashboard and summoning me to pull over and fight him. I ignored his loving gestures and got into the left turn lane. He pulled in behind me and started getting out of his car. 'Scuse me?? Fortunately, the light turned green and we were off.
At that point I called 911.
Once I made the left turn I pulled over to the shoulder to let him pass so I could get his plate info. Apparently he took it that I wanted to fight and pulled over behind me. I continued to drive 10 mph along the shoulder until I reached my subdivision.
The dispatcher had all kinds of advice for me: Don't get out of the car. Lock the doors. Keep moving if possible. What is he wearing? What make/model/color car is he driving? How the hell am I supposed to know? He's too close to see anything.
Meanwhile I turned into my subdivision and avoided my house. All I needed was Mr. Jagoff to know where I live. He decided to pull alongside me, roll the window down and shout obscenities at me. "Wanna fight me asshole? C'mon, let's settle this now!"
"Dude, settle what? You just need to get off my fucking bumper." For some reason, my words made him get out of his car and give chase on foot. I assure you I can drive faster than he can run.
Not one to give up, he got back in his car and chased me down the road again. I let him pass so I could give his plate info to the dispatcher. He decided to pull in front of me and park sideways to block the road. Again he got out and started to chase me on foot. (this time in reverse - what a fuckin' idiot!)
I circled the block and lost sight of him. Apparently he's a pussy and a quitter because he disappeared.
Forty-five seconds later the officer showed up and took my statement. A few minutes after I got home, the cop came to the door and told me they ran the plates and knew where he lived, and how would I like to proceed? I could charge him with disturbing the peace and attempted assault.
"Neh. Just go to his house and make him shit his pants. If he has an issue with any of it, come back and I will press charges. Tell him I said he's a cocky punk who needs to learn how to drive."
"One of my favorite things to do." With that he was off to pay a visit to Mr. Douche.
Would you have filed charges or let him skate?
*I guess technically we all have an asshole behind us.