Book Club Ladies: An Email I Just Wrote

Part One

Did I almost get into a collision with you at the Clemmons Library just now? Tell me it wasn’t you. I’m not sure I conducted myself with very much politeness.

If it wasn’t you, there’s a lady out there who has an EERILY similar face to yours.

Response

I’m laughing so hard right now!!! No it wasn’t me.

Part Two

Okay then I’ll tell you. Was parked kind of wonky to let my eight year old run something up to the drop box. A small black car goes *whizzing* by me from behind like a crazy person and I think to myself, “Somebody is going to die today in the parking lot of the public library.”

A minute or two later, I’m creeping out to round the corner to my right and while maybe not hugging the parked cars beside me, I’m definitely not sticking way out into the center or even crossing over into the left side of my “lane” area. As I approach the corner to make my right turn, your twin sister comes FLYING from the front half of the parking lot and isn’t actually looking up or out or anywhere. I can’t tell if she’s yelling at a kid in the backseat or looking at something on the empty passenger seat, but at that moment she’s very quickly cutting a super sharp turn and time sort of suspends while I (in slow motion thoughts) think, “She’s going to crunch the front corner of my mini van in like three seconds.”

I don’t even honk, which I’m usually TOO quick with. I just hit my brakes and mentally brace for impact.

She looks up at the last possible second, slams on her breaks (my mouth is agape but I’m otherwise devoid of usual expression, verbal or otherwise), and she has the audacity to waggle a finger at me, right and left style, like I’m taking too much of the lane.

I just yell at her through my window as if she can hear me and she is also a pea-brained child, “You are driving WAY TOO FAST, LADY!”

I creep around. Halfway home I have a panic because her face registers familiarity in that way. You know. *That way.* And I think, “Oh God, did I just scream at Heather in the parking lot of the public library? And what was she doing in Clemmons? And why the hell was she going so fast?”

So obviously I’m glad it wasn’t you. The sad thing is that it absolutely was someone else who goes to the Y at the same time as me and probably has a kid who is the same age as one of mine.

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