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The Traffic Fight That Ended In Laughter
Back in high school, I had a friend who was not exactly a scholar. Some said that he had mental problems, but I doubt it. It seemed to me that he was just timid, to the point of doing poorly in school because of his shyness. So, while we were seventeen, he was already twenty-one. He was the only one in the class who already had a car.
The people in my band were friends with him, so his car became “the band’s car.” The problem is that, perhaps due to his tremendous shyness, my friend was a terrible driver. He has already entered 23 de Maio Avenue, one of the busiest here in São Paulo, AGAINST THE FLOW in the dawn. Going out with him was an adventure; I rarely did this — I was eighteen years old (minimum age to drive in Brazil), I took my mom’s car when I needed to. So, the guy was a lousy driver… And what happened to him that is worth a story?
One day he went out with the other four members of my band. I don’t remember where they were going. I know that, at a certain point in the trip, someone cut him on.
My shy friend became a crazed macaw.
He started running behind the driver who had cut him; my bandmates started writing their wills, until, finally, the car that cut him stopped at a light. And he stopped beside.
Hatred foaming in his mouth…
Veins were pulsing hundreds of liters of blood in his head…
My friend went down the glass…
He opened his mouth…
And with all the hatred he managed to muster, he shouted:
YOU… YOU … YOU LITTLE CLOWN!
Even the other car’s driver laughed!
