Adrenaline is powerful shit.

I was going nowhere and bored on Greenfield Road in Mesa, stuck in a Sunday traffic jam because they fucking closed 2 out of 3 lanes. We were are all funneling into one narrow slice of shitty pavement surrounded by orange cones.

Look in the rearview mirror, and 4-5 cars back some cheap-ass, little, white car “jumps” across the cones, speeds up the empty right-turn-only lane, and slams on the brakes next to me.

Look over.

There’s an angry face of a skinny-fuck, douchebag-millennial, white-boy with his window rolled down and yelling at me?

“Learn how to fucking drive,” he screams, and he squeals his tires around the right turn.

He shouldn’t be driving his mom’s car like that.

You would think a grown-ass adult, would analyze this situation and decide skinny-fuck, douchebag was an idiot and yelled at the wrong car. But that’s not how I reacted.

That adrenaline rushed into my head faster than heroine through an artery. It overruled logic, reason and 4000 years of civilization.

I unsnapped my seatbelt and started getting out of the car to kick his fucking ass right there on Greenfield road in front of god and everybody.

It’s moments like these that convince me I should never carry a gun. If I had a Yosemite Sam hip holster, I would have pulled out my six shooter and started firing in every damn direction until I ran out of bullets.

Of course douchebag’s mom’s car was gone before I could even get my door open. And I snapped the seatbelt back in place and waited for the line to move. I didn’t even get a chance to yell back at the little shit.

But for a good 15 minutes, I was thinking about finding that little douchebag, ripping off his right arm and shoving it elbow deep up his ass.

This is why background checks and “anger tests” should happen before they let the “People of Walmart” arm themselves to the teeth. People like me (and there’s a fucking lot of us) should not walk the streets with weaponry — especially shit powered by gunpowder and slinging 100 projectiles a minute, faster than the speed of sound.

Here’s my idea of an anger test. You want to buy a gun. During the waiting period, they use a hidden camera and some random douchebag calls you an asshole and bumps into your cart at Walmart. If your face turns beat red, and you start swinging your fists or picking up random shit to hit him with — no gun for you.

More than 20-minutes after my douchebag encounter, I was still sweating in 60-degree weather with the veins in my neck sticking out like the bridle on a horse.

Had a couple of beers and tried to remember. What could I have done to his little piss ant and his piece of shit car?

As a proud representative of cranky-ass people everywhere, I have developed some angry, old-man driving habits.

I fucking hate people driving slow in the fast lane. So I flash the brights till they move. If they don’t, I fly past them on the right as fast as my lying Nazi Bullshit Diesel will go.

I also fucking hate people who pass on the right. (Yes sir, self-loathing drivers do exist). When there is a long line of cars in the left lane all going the same pace, right-lane fuckers only get 2-3 cars ahead and then squeeze into a minuscule gap forcing everyone else to slam on the brakes to make room. I’ve been rear-ended twice on freeways when 4 cars hit each other because some shit head in front of us forced his way into the line.

Fuck you for almost killing all of us so you can save 10 fucking seconds. You selfish piece of shit.

I also don’t automatically let people in a line from a side street or parking lot. Hey, I’ve been stuck in this traffic for more than a minute. If I got here before you, fuck you, you can wait a minute too.

Maybe douchebag tried to cut in or tried to pass on the right, and I didn’t let him in? Well then, double fuck you douchebag, because even if you thought you were screaming at the right car — you had the wrong reason.

It’s been 3 weeks since white-boy blowhard yelled at me, but just thinking about it, makes me want to go douchebag hunting.

Where’s my Goddamn Yosemite Sam six shooter… Damn this adrenaline is powerful shit.

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