Honk if you're Ornery

A couple weeks ago, after a few gray days, I made a comment to my friend about how nice it was to see the sun again. He said: "I'm surprised you can tell by looking out your window." Ouch. For the last four years, I've stared at the back side of a warehouse. It's a terrible view. Not only does this warehouse obstruct natural light and hustle-bustle of the city, but semi-trucks are constantly coming and going, loading and unloading, interfering with my rush to and from work each day.

This morning, a truck parked on the side of the road with its flashers on decided to whip out in front of me so he could turn into the warehouse parking lot. Apparently, it didn't occur to him to wait twenty seconds for me to pass when he would've had all the time in the world to maneuver his monster of a vehicle. I am not a patient person in a situation such as this so once his front end made it halfway into the lot, I veered into the oncoming lane of traffic, only to be greeted head-on by an approaching car. We both swerved to the side, but the road is plenty wide.

As a delayed reaction, the driver of the car blared his horn after our close encounter. It was completely my fault and I'm sure he was upset, but had I known he was in the adjacent lane, I clearly wouldn't have done that! It wasn't like I woke up this morning and thought, "I'd like to get into a head-on collision today!" I reserve my horn honking for the "bozos" (my dad's term), and to alert unaware drivers of my close proximity, but what's the point after-the-fact?