An open letter to the lady (lower case “L”) in the white Mercedes convertible driving on Main Street at around 11:00am today:

Dear lady,

It is 4th of July weekend.  I get this.  People have the day off and there’s lots to do.  Like gettin’ your hair bleached.  Or gettin’ your nails done, for things, you know… like flippin’ people off.  An’ there’s booze to buy, too.  You know, for your pah-ty.

I’m just not sure if you know that there are other people on the roads.

I’ll try to explain.  Real slow-like.  So you un-da-stand.

Main Street is, well, a main street.  Lots of stores.  Lots of side streets.  Lots of automobiles (that would be “cars”).  Lots of people in these “cars.”  The speed limit on this main street is 25 mph (that would be “miles per hour.”)  So when you’re drivin’, oh, about 40-50 mph, you might not be able to decelerate (that would be “slow down”) in enough time for some other person in her car to safely merge (that would be “blend together” in traffic) from a side street.  And if you happen to accelerate (that would be “speed up”) just so that person cannot merge in time, just so you can tear-ass into that liquah store parkin’ lot 5 seconds soonah… well, there is the potential for a problem.

Maybe if your radio was turned down a notch or two, you could concentrate (that would be “pay attention”) bettah to your surroundin’s.  Now, I know you’re old enough to drive.  And to buy booze. And I’m sure you’ve been drivin’ and buyin’ booze for some time, because, well… I was close enough to see not only your middle fingah in its upright position when you flipped me off, but I could also see beyond your giant golden laced D&G sunglasses. You might want to get a bigger pair.  Of sunglasses, that is.  Because your other pair was big enough to bust (no pun intended… and I won’t even bother defining the word “pun”) a move on your steering wheel.

Or, maybe you could send someone else out to do your errands.  That might be safer.  But then again, how can someone else get your hair and nails done so, so, so… 80’s?  Silly me.  And oh, I did notice as I narrowly escaped death that your license plate is one of those super low initial and number plates that used to be so populah in the littlest state in the union.  Just wonderin’.  Is your husband or boyfriend a politician or judge or lawyah or somethin’?

But anyways.  Like I said, it’s 4th of July weekend.  On this special day way back in 1776, the remarkable document known as the Declaration of Independence was approved by the Continental Congress.  The 13 colonies were on the road to great freedoms.  Including, eventually, freedom of expression.  Some argue that your middle finger “expression” is “protected” expression.  Hmmm.  Somehow I kinda think you’ve done this before, many times, and that you’ve not given this expression/freedom much thought.  So I will give you mine.  Thought, that is.  In a town filled with people, including children, on a beautiful July morning on Main Street USA, your reckless driving was trumped only by your crass and distasteful gesture/behavior.  Translation:  although flipping the bird with your manicured nail is not quite illegal, it is impudent (that, my dear, would be unladylike).

Happy 4th of July to each of us… with each of our great freedoms!

Sincerely,

The Lady in the silver Pilot