Should I Have Gotten His Plate Number?

So, what would you do in this situation?  I didn’t grab a picture with my phone or try to see or remember his plate digits because I was too busy trying to figure out a game plan if this deranged redneck drunk-ass degenerate (herein now known as “The Asshole”) actually punched me out me on the street, yesterday, at four o’clock in the afternoon, in front of my children (and the useless, gawking dude who was walking his yorkie-poo), for calling attention to him for out for going at least 70 km/hr in front of a school, on a road with no sidewalks, where children were biking and scootering at the side of the road, in  a 40km/hr zone.

As it went, The Asshole contented himself with screeching his dirty gray pick up truck to a halt, nearly losing the plank of wood that was hanging, unsecured out the back of his truck bed, jumping out, charging back towards me while screaming “If you would keep your fucking kids off the street…!” (and then he sorted of appeared to be at a loss for words after that display of oratory gold).  To which I loudly replied, while still standing on the side of the road in front of an ELEMENTARY SCHOOL – “This is a 40 zone, YOU’RE SPEEDING!”  For whatever reason, The Asshole decided that fist fighting a woman didn’t fit into his schedule, probably late for a meeting with his probation officer (and thank god, because he would have killed me because I’m too stupid, hot-headed or fiery to back the fuck down, even when I know I should) so he jumped back into his truck, jammed the gas and fishtailed up the road, easily hitting 80 km/hr by the time he cleared the corner intersection (for which he did not have a s stop sign, thank God, because he would have totally blown through it).

All of this was very strange to me, first of all because I’m not a fighter.  I’m not a manly woman.  I’m not rough and tumble.  I don’t like pain, I’m terrible in the face of anyone’s anger, I’d rather smile through life than get into a physical altercation with ANYONE, but for some reason, I know that I still would have been too dumb to run away had he decided to punch my clock.  It was strange to me also because my two older smalls were already across the road when this happened and I was bringing up the rear with my two youngest smalls.  My son was NOT on the road.  He was on a scooter, with a helmet at the SIDE of the road, where people are supposed to ride when there are no sidewalks.  It was strange to me because we now live on a very quiet street and there isn’t a lot of traffic.  Ever.  It was strange to me because seeing me in his rearview mirror throwing my arms up while saying “what are you doing?!?” infuriated The Asshole to the extent that he felt it necessary to stop and throw down over it.

I was angry, I readily admit that.  He was speeding.  He was driving erratically.  He got too close to where my son was riding his scooter.  I didn’t pick up a rock and hurl it at his speeding truck, I didn’t chase after him, I didn’t pull a rocket launcher out of my back pocket and blow is obnoxious, dangerous ass off the planet.  Hell, I didn’t even give him the one finger salute.  I didn’t threaten him in any way, shape or form but I sure did piss The Asshole off, yes sir, I did.

Luckily he flew off so quickly that he didn’t see where we lived, so at the end of it all my kids are safe, I stood up for myself in the face of an imminent beating, and he beat the hell out of his own truck and (I hope) shortened the life of his brakes and tires.  I’m taking this one as a win for me.

Do these shitstorms only hit when I’m around?  I don’t want to believe it, and am not sure that I do, but it sure feel that way sometimes.  Anything like this happen to you before?  Do I need a karma cleanse to stop attracting lunatics who somehow all have drivers licences and bad attitudes?