Congrats! You're a dick.

So, I've been trying this new thing when anyone acts like a complete D-Bag in traffic.

It's well documented that I might have some slight road-rage – or it would be documented if this blog was older, but I'm sure my oral biography will be chalk full of references to incoherent yelling and gesticulating while driving (unless my mom somehow reads this, in which case, I don't do any of that).

One of the best compliments I've ever gotten was from my friend maRk, who said he wanted me to teach his daughter to drive because I drive aggressively, but he is never scared to be in my car.  Others would disagree.  I know Bear is not always a fan of my vehicular stylings, but then again, she no longer has a clock in her car and tends to just zen out when driving.  Not my speed (pun intended), but I appreciate her mellow style.

I've also been told that I drive "like a dude," which, I think, is also a compliment.  I feel very comfortable behind the wheel in most situations, possibly because one of the first times I ever drove, it was in a Suburban pulling a horse trailer on a dirt road so narrow that was one-way for the first half of the hour and one-way in the other direction for the second half.  And I feel like I am generally safe, even if I do tend to drive little fast.  I just have my own style, I think, and I am bothered when people interfere with my style.

You know that part of Highway 17 that comes down from Santa Cruz and hits San Jose becoming 880? And then 880 turns and starts heading North along the East side of the Bay? Well, there is this moment, right past Milpitas, where you are no longer in the South Bay, but in the East Bay, and suddenly everyone drives like a complete A-Hole.  This is a proven scientific fact, by the way.  And this isn't the only place.  There are pockets all over, like the Bermuda Triangle of traffic, that cause people to lose any ability they had to operate a motor vehicle in a socially acceptable way.

Because that's the thing – it's not that people are suddenly becoming unlawful (usually) in their driving.  They just lose any respect for their fellow motorist.  They try to exit the freeway from the far left lane feet before their exit in stop and go traffic; they turn in front of you and then stop inexplicably; they come half way out into the street to see if it's clear. . . the list goes on.

Now, the Meg with the little bit of road rage usually wants to scream when drivers act like that.  I want to gesture rudly at them and say something like: "Your Father Was a Hamster! And Your Mother Smells of Elderberries!"  But that was the old Meg (and taunting French guards).

So, yeah, the new Meg has a plan.  Whenever a total dickbag cuts me off, I've been giving them an ironic thumbs-up.  Like, "Way to go, Guy. You're a total jerk!" or "Awesome, Dude.  You just almost ran me off the road. Rad!"

I know what you're thinking.  Because the accompanying sarcastic remarks are in my head, it might come off like I'm congratulating them for their douchebaggery.  Well, thumbs-up to you, too.

Also, in my head, my thumbs-upping is like that awesome scene in Easy A where Emma Stone's character, Olive, suddenly finds herself friends with Amanda Bynes' character, Marianne, and she has no idea what's going on, so she just keeps thumbs-upping.  I love it.

If you see me doing this at you, congrats! You're a dick.

Do you do anything to prevent yourself from flipping out at someone?  Are you going to try my ironic thumbs-up move?  If you do, let me know how it works for you.  I'm stoked on it, but I suspect that's just me.