It's a slushy, snowy day. We are driving home to PEI from New Brunswick. Erin is at the wheel.
Erin: What's this guy doing?
A dark BMW passes us on the left.
Erin: I just passed this guy. And now he's passing me.
Me: (grinning) Beemer Man probably disliked being passed by a woman.
Beemer Man abruptly cuts in front of our car and turns on his four-way flashers. He is slowing down.
Me: He's trying to force you over.
Erin slows the car. She considers pulling up beside him to ask him what the problem is, but there are cars coming up fast from behind. We park behind him on the shoulder of the highway. The kids in the back seat are being uncharacteristically patient.
Beemer Man throws open his door and jumps out. He is obviously agitated.
Erin: This could be bad. What should I do?
Me: Just be patient. You haven't done anything wrong.
Beemer Man approaches Erin's window. I ready myself to defend, verbally or otherwise.
Beemer Man: Your gas cap is dangling off the side of your car. If you get any weather in the tank, you could have some serious engine problems.
Erin: Oh! Thank-you!
Me: Thanks a lot!
I jump out, replace the cap, and return to my seat. As Beemer Man pulls away, Erin and I both wave like ninnies.
Erin: That was nice.
Me: That was nice.
Erin: We were such jerks.
Me: We were such jerks.