Dr. Ruth

I may have talked about this before but the past couple of days I have been thinking whether this whole blog is nothing more than a self-fulfilling (ooh difficult word) prophecy.
Mr. Exhaustbreather thinks all cars are homicidal maniacs whose only goal in life is to mow him down whilst biking, as a result drivers start to act like selfish bastards with no respect for anybody. There you have it, a self-fulfilling (bloody hell here's that word again) prophecy; you think everything is sh*t and as a result everything will go t*ts up.
This morning I decided to check this theory, I left home convinced that I would have a great ride into work, without any car-related incident whatsoever. By the power of the self-fulfilling (this is the last time I promise) prophecy I should have a great ride into work, right?

Guess what! I did!

Almost...
At some point I reach a crossing and the traffic lights are red. I am no red light jumper so I drive past the queuing card all the way to the head of the queue, and I wait patiently for the light to turn green... The light turns green and I start riding. I swear to Glycon or any deity of your choice, that I am mashing those pedals the split second the light turns green...
Next thing you know there is this lady behind me in a silver Renault Clio who gives a fantastic multi-tasking demonstration; she revs her engine like a full-grown rally pilot, flips me the bird like a gangster rapper and gets foul mouthed like a Tourette patient all this while squeezing past me, almost colliding into oncoming traffic...
Two hundred (200) meters further and she's standing still in front of another red light... I ride past her laughing out loud, I stop and wait for the light to turn green...
Once more I am witness to the same complex multi-tasking ritual, only this time she needs to break like mad not to crash into the back of the queue fifty (50) meters further... I ride past her singing and smiling, she almost chokes in her cigarette screaming (rasping) more profanities... I don't see her again.

What made the poor woman act like that?
Was she late for work? I can't help with that, I didn't tell her to drive her car into work.
Did she need some coffee? My advice; French pressed coffee is the best, one spoon of coarse ground coffee per mug of coffee, it takes no time to prepare and it tastes like Heaven.
Was she unhappy about her sex life? Hey! Easy now! Hold it right there! I am Mr. Exhaustbreather not frigging Dr. Ruth.