an open letter

dear woman in red toyota yaris,

that wasn't me that honked at you. sure, i was frustrated you didn't move when the light turned green, but i didn't honk. it was the guy next to me. and i know you don't believe me, as evidenced by the flipping me off, and then turning around to shake your finger at me and yell and then flip me off again, but really. i didn't do it. since you didn't seem to want to roll down your window when i drove up next to you around the corner, here is what i was saying:

"hey cunt-face. that wasn't me. do you hear this (honk)? that's not the fucking horn from back there. now i wish i had honked, or bumped you into the intersection so that the camera flashed and you got a moving violation, just to piss you off. i hate you. why don't you go back to fort jesus-town patriot-ville or whatever bumblefuck town you learned to drive in, and get out of my way. because bitch? i'm late. suck it."

sincerely,
eoin