Friday night, Steve told me he was giving me a raise effective tomorrow. Greg had already told me I was getting one, but by asking Steve to officially inform me, he’s giving me and Steve the opportunity to patch our differences. A. and I also had the first civil conversation last night that we’ve had in several weeks.

They just moved into an apartment together, not far from where I am. Actually, they’re in the same complex this dude and his wife used to be in. I remember right after they signed their lease, a month or two ago, Steve called me up four times one night, each time demanding to know the fluctuations of my heating bill. His sister M. also used to live in a Henderson-Webb complex (a different one, crappier buildings) and her BGE bills were ass-rapingly ridiculous (my BGE bills vary between $20 a month during the mild months to $50-80 during the summer and winter).

**

I’ve been having these anxiety attacks all weekend about my car. I have these horrible premonitions that the insurance company is going to refuse to pay the claim, jack up my rates, and turn a bunch of convicts loose on my tender butthole. I do calm down, but I’m dreading my next conversation with my adjuster (who is, really, a very nice person … or seems to be). The step I’m waiting on is for the company to send an adjuster to verify the estimate sent in by the body shop. Then we go from there.

… eep?

The a/c controls are very difficult to use. I had to consult the owner’s manual. There is no “off” control marked on the dash, so apparently I had the a/c running since Thursday. Long story short, I burned through a complete tank of gas super quick. Fuckin’ Dodge.

So last night, working, I was southbound on a rural road, waiting at one of the few lights in the area to make a right and drop off my second delivery. Across the intersection, another car (who’d been at the light first) was waiting to make a left.

The light turns green. I go. So does he. He comes to a slamming stop and honks and flashes his brights.

I nearly slammed on my own brakes and confronted him. “Excuse me, did you just flash your brights and honk at me? Please to be remembering right of way, which is to say, it’s mine, and if you hit me, your insurance company isn’t going to be being all that thrilled with you.”

Anyway, I thought, fuck it. I drove down the road to take the delivery. I made the turn onto the residential street.

And he followed me.

Coincidence? Maybe.

So about halfway to the house I needed to be at, I decided if this guy was following me, I didn’t want to confront him at the customer’s place. Although, now that I think about it, that’s probably exactly where I would want to confront him - in front of other people who could call the police. Then the police could come out and beat the shit out of this guy while they lecture him on right of way and why he’s a fucking moron.

So I stopped on the side of the road. And he made a left into the driveway of a house I’d just passed. I don’t know if he’d wanted a confrontation and chickened out, or what, but I didn’t stick around to tell him he was a douche. I made my delivery and went back to the store. I was half expecting him to ring the store up demanding a free pizza to compensate for my reckless driving, but maybe that was his house, and when he went in bitching and moaning about the pizza guy who failed to yield, his parents exchanged a look, explained how he was a dumbass, and disowned him for being to stupid to know about right of way.

For some reason, I’m feeling quite agitated about this.

Oh, yeah.