Thursday, August 4, 2011

The Interpreter


I was exiting the freeway. I was turning right and I had the inside position. There was a black mini van to the left of me and he was making a right turn as well. I saw him punch the gas and make his move, so I made mine. I sensed he was trying to scoot by me and snake my line in his rush. I felt myself tense up and my stubborn side kick in, the side of me that wants cooperation, justice and decency.
There was a merge to one line and I had inside position so I gave it the gas. The mini van had to hit the brakes.
Beep!
How annoying I thought. The snake was snaked and now he’s honking at me.
The line divided into a two line left turn. The black mini van pulled up beside me. His electric windows came down. I pulled back on the switch to my electric windows and they smoothly came down as well.
            “What?” I asked, throwing up my hands in an aggravated tone.
            There was a heavyset woman from somewhere south of the border in the passenger seat and a Chinese man at the wheel.
            The woman turned to the man and then to me.
            “He says you cut him off!” the woman said in a thick Spanish accent.
            “I had the inside line. I was just staying in my line!” I told the woman.
            The woman turned to the Chinese man. I could see him saying something to her. The woman turned back to me.
            “He says, you almost crashed into him!”
            “What do you want me to do, I had the right of way,” I said.
            This was a first. Road rage with a translator. The third person seemed to calm the situation down some. It was like having a mediator. I could see the anger on the Chinese mans face.
            “I don’t think so,” the woman said.
            “You don’t know nothing,” I said.
The traffic light turned green and we drove away. What a couple of morons I said to myself. Then it occurred to me that the heavyset woman spoke three languages and one of them was Chinese. 

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