Dear Problem Guy...
So I'm on my way to the doctor the other morning, when as I approach a red light, I see that the car in front of me is a Cadillac from 1981. By that I mean that this vehicle appears so large that the front-end is not even in the same time zone as me.
Of course behind the wheel is an old man in a hat. I know its a cliche but there he was. I couldnt see him of course, just his knuckles on the steering wheel. They were ghost white from gripping the wheel so tight.
At this point I'm thinking I should just turn around and go home. Because there is no way this is going to end in my favor.
Stupidly I decide to make the best of it. Light turns green and we dont move. people behind me honk. He turns on his right signal. Doesnt move, then the left signal, doesnt move. Then suddenly he floors it. Of course he's driving an american-made behemoth of a car so for the first 10 seconds nothing happens. Then the engine kicks in and it sounds like the end of the world.
The car lurches backwards and slams into me. Then I see the hands flailing in the front seat. He grips the wheel again and floors it a second time. This time he shoots forward at a speed of no less than 8 miles an hour.
Because the car is so fuckin huge and slow. The light changes back to red just as he finally get across the intersection. The front of my car looks like it was used to transport frightened pigs across a mine field.
I feel myself getting too warm, then faint and then way back in the reptile part of my brain, I hear a snap...
I run the light and chase him down, driving into oncoming traffic just so I can get on his left side and crash him off the road into a nearby gas station.
He smashes into a pump and the explosion is so big, you could probably see it from the moon. The little gnome is french fries now and I couldn't be happier.
So...should I have gotten his insurance information?
Advice: Nope, sounds like you handled it in a mature and if I don't say so myself, very satisfying manner.
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