Meeting Angus. Type A.

We all know him (or her). Let’s call him Angus. He’s Type A. We see him in our rearview mirror, changing lanes and zigzagging his way from far back there on the road to our back bumper in a minute or two. He is stuck behind us and starts swaying right and left in the lane to signal we’re going far too sloooow. We check and see we’re doing about 10 miles over the speed limit. No faster than that, we decide. Now Angus is gesticulating. His arm is out of the window and his index finger goes round and round – hurry up will ya!

Is that Angus in your rear view mirror?

Just before the next intersection he moves into the turning lane on our left. Left turn only, with a white curved arrow on the asphalt. Phew, he’ll be gone. The light turns red. We stop, and he stops too.  There’s a red arrow for his lane. At least he didn’t run the red light. We wait. The light turns green and we start crossing the intersection. And wroooom, he cuts in right in front of us from the turning lane. We stand on the brakes not to hit him. That was too close!  No, that was Angus. He’s in a hurry. Always.

Taxis (Stock image)

Or we may meet Angus on the big city street around lunch time. Running with his briefcase under one arm, and the other waiving for a taxi. Taxi! Prepared to fight for the first taxi that appears around the corner. We resign to the fact that we’ll not be meeting our lunch date on time.

But suddenly he’s down! Holding his chest. Now we need to call 911. It looks like poor Angus is having a heart attack. We’re still there next to him when the ambulance arrives.  We say we don’t really know him, just been meeting him here and there. The paramedics work fast, he’s lifted into the ambulance. And he’s gone. Or is he?


 I originally wrote this story about two years ago (now shortened/edited), but was reminded of it today as I had a really close call with Angus. Somehow, miraculously, I was able to avoid a T-bone collision with him.  I’m a bit shaken, but happy that my reflexes are still sharp. I hope I won’t meet him again any time soon. And I hope you’ll stay safe too.

22 thoughts on “Meeting Angus. Type A.”

  1. Glad that you are ok!! Angus is well known through out the world I’m afraid. And some of them won’t admit they are Angus. Hope you have a relaxing weekend and stay safe my friend! ❤

    1. I’m happy too that we’re ok. I’m grateful I could avoid him in the last second…with a few inches to spare. Have a good weekend too, my friend ❤

    1. Yes, unfortunately he is busy zooming out there. We can only hope we don’t meet him too often. I’m grateful I’m okay after today’s incident.

  2. Phew! Glad you are okay. The Angus I know usually has a red car. He gives a raging bull a bad name. In New Zealand he would do well to remember that Angus steak makes a tasty meal.

    1. Phew is also what I said! Never been so close to a potentially serious accident …and if it had happened it would have been a thin consolation that it would have been solely his fault. I feel I had protection right there 🙂

  3. LOL–we have an increasing number of Anguses (or is that Angii…hmmm) up my way too, Typically it’s skeets driving ten year old souped up Acuras or “Da By’s” back from the oil field driving their jazzed up pickups (my wife says they’re “Compensating” hee hee). Coincidentally I wrote my own little poem about one such critter earlier this year (which you did read and comment on). Annoying folk, and in the end their bad behaviors really save them no time in the long run.

  4. I remember your story too. Most of the time they are just very frustrating or annoying, but sometimes they are right out dangerous. Like this one yesterday. I like your wife’s interpretation 😀

  5. Oh Tiny, I’m so glad to read that you avoided the collision. So scary. People seem to forget that they’re basically driving around in a loaded gun. Please use it responsibly!

    1. I’m happy about that too. It happened so quickly, I don’t even know how I was able to get out of his way with a few inches to spare…some people should not be on the roads.

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