Now back to my cake...

            Today was a rough day at work. Three alarm drills took place a Tornado Drill, Fire Drill and Intruder Alert (this one upsets me every year). Which is difficult for a class of typically functioning 3-5 year olds; now imagine it in a class full of children with autism. Not fun or pretty even when you are prepared. So I came home and decided to bake a flourless chocolate cake to bring to Grandma’s this weekend. Why baking makes me feel better- I will never know.  I had everything for the recipe except for the eggs. So off to the store I went. Driving in the Chicago suburbs rush hour is never fun, surrounded by semis, angry commuters and soccer mom’s late for practice. As I drove down the two-lane road, a semi was close on my right side and continually drove up next to me then backed off. He had no turn signal on nor did he motion that he wanted to get over. I had no room to let him in so I continued forth to the store with visions of a beautiful cake in my future. Soon, I saw a construction traffic arrow pointing for all cars to get into the left lane. Unfortunately, because of the traffic and the fact that I drive a tiny car I could not see this sign until I was practically on top of it and the semi was merging in right behind me. Then I heard him yell “ You F****** C*** and saw him flicking me off as he turned into the gas station to fill up. I was obviously upset.

            I tried to ignore it. I went to the store got my eggs and was still fuming when I left. On my way home, I hit every green light and took this as a sign. I saw my filthy mouthed friend still pumping at the gas station. I pulled over, got out of my car and marched over towards him.

            He was probably in his 40’s about 200 pounds with a very large gold eagle necklace around his neck. When I reached him I said “Hi, I am the F****** C***”. He looked mad and began to make another inappropriate comment. I interrupted this statement and informed him that I was a pre-school teacher who taught a class for children with autism not a B**** or a C***. As I said those words he flinched and looked towards the ground. Then he started kicking imaginary rocks with his mouth firmly shut. After that, I explained to him that I was only going to the store to get eggs to bake a chocolate cake for my Grandma who is very sick. I informed him that I, along with most people are making it the best they can and no one deserves to be spoken to like that. Then I said the statement that upset him the most, I told him that he should be absolutely ashamed of himself and that he hurt my feelings. As I lectured, many men pumping gas into their cars began to walk towards me to make sure this trucker man would not swing a punch at me (the 20 something angry blonde). By the time I finished, their mouths were open and one man was walking away chuckling. 

            In the end, the trucker man looked me in the eyes and said, “I am so sorry. That was uncalled for and all the blame was on me. Please forgive me Miss.”  Mission accomplished. Now back to my cake.