Testosterone
So I'm going crazy trying to finish sewing an order for a customer who's waiting and in a big hurry as he's expected to appear at the rain forrest cafe in the tarzan outfit I'm sweating over when the intercom blares my name:
George, you need to move your car.
Jesus fuck! Now?!?
I run downstairs and grab my keys then head out to find the back street blocked up with cars, vans and a truck.
the only way out for me and the girl I'm letting out of our private rear access lane is in reverse and I'm in a hurry to get back to my work.
As I back up onto the narrow street, a small Toyota blaring persian music whips off Wellesly St. and speeds towards the rear of my van.
I continue to slowly back up while the two cars in front of me are inching their way forward towards me- a very strange parade as the leader (me) is traveling in reverse towards a car that is advancing onto us, expecting the sea to part for him.
I roll down my window and motion for him to back up instead.
He responds by inching forward while leaning on the horn.
I respond by calmly inching back to within millimeters of hitting him.
I wait while he continues to honk at us all.
The next thing he does is open his door and angrily walks towards my van as I lean out to hear what he has to say.
He's yelling something about being in a hurry. I lock his gaze and calmly tell him to stand down, back up as I am doing and go around the block instead as we were there first.
He glares at me and demands we move back instead.
I open my door without breaking eye contact with him and get out of my van to face him.
I stand within a foot of his face without saying a word.
He's a half foot taller than me, fit and half my age looking at me down his nose and breathing hard.
Without backing down and in a voice so low it's nearly a whisper, I say 'touch Me'.
He gets wild eyed and starts to tremble then abruptly turns, gets back into his car and starts leaning on the horn again.
I walk over (noticing the Pizzaville delivery sign on his dash) and lean into his face.
Our eyes are locked, our noses nearly touching. Neither one of us is blinking.
At this point the other drivers are starting to emerge from their vehicles and telling us to 'cool it guys'.
He breaks eye contact and slams it into reverse, screaming 'you're a crazy old man! CRAZY!' as he squeals away.
He has no idea how right he is.