Crazy Shit, Part 2

You can read the first part of this story here.

Trashy Lady in the Shitty Teal Car is going to try to pass me to show her dominance. I thought. I had the urge to speed up. No. Don't play her game. Play your game. Her game is sloppy and ill-thought out. Keep your cool.

     Trashy Lady sped up and hugged the back of the car in front of her, looking for the opportunity to cut me off. I stayed my course.

     Then, when she could, she crossed in front of me.

     "Oh, she gave you the dragon look!" Oldest Son said.

     "Get her, Mom!" Youngest Son cheered me on.

     "No," I replied. She doesn't have that kind of control over me. I'm doing my thing. 

     "Come on! It will be fun! Get her!"

     Okay, I will be honest, I had already succumbed to sending her the finger back. And I felt a rush of adrenaline when she was next to me. But then I got a look at her. A good look at her:

     Probably early 30s, bad dye and highlight job, put up in a messy ponytail that needed some washing. Fleshy, out of shape, but not obese. 

      Miraculously, I was on the mat. What if she started something? How would I take her down?

     She was not athletic, but she was big boned. This means that she was dead weight. I probably had more skill than she did, but I was much smaller and that dead weight would be tough to throw. Would I hip toss her? Should I try a foot sweep? I settle on a hip toss, ending up in knee ride. From there I could shift my weight into her armpit and perhaps go for an arm bar. How would she react to that? Would she turn in and escape my knee ride? My left leg would go for head control over her face, pushing it way from me. She wouldn't be able to get up from that, I was sure. She is probably not used to having someone's muscly leg flattening out her nose. She will hate that. They always hate that.

     Trashy Lady didn't look like she would be stiff jointed, so I calculated in her flexibility. How much strength would I need to flip her? Where would my hips fall in relation to hers? What kind of control could I expect to maintain throughout the throw, given her weight and my strength?

     I know it is totally messed up, but these thoughts brought a calmness over me, one that helped me stop the flow of adrenaline and be in control of the situation.

      She pulled her car in front of mine, accelerated, and then proceeded to weave all over the lane. At one point she thought the breakdown lane was a driving lane and swerved out of it at the last minute. I had noticed these white-belt driving maneuvers, and by this time I was consciously a healthy distance behind her. I don't need someone spazzing out all over my car. I've got children in the back. She has no children in her car. The stakes are different for her. Just like those twenty year olds with the knees that never seem to pop, she has nothing to protect. I'll proceed cautiously.

     I followed behind her for some time, my boys chattering in the back.

     "Come on mom, pass her!"

     "It will be funny!"

     "Get up there Mom!"

     "Haha I can't believe you gave her the finger!"

     "Boys, she is not in control of me. I am in control." I reiterated.

     I watched her pull of the exit and I kept moving forward. But I was kind of sad I never got to try out my hip throw on her. That was going to be sweet.