Road rage is scary but sometimes those lunatics will give you no choice. These folks share how they dealt with their craziest confrontations while on the road.
“Roger Was An Interesting Guy”
“This didn’t happen to me, but to a friend of mine named Roger. Roger stood six feet three inches tall, probably 190-200 pounds, very fit and athletic. He tended to shave only occasionally, had a quite noticeable scar across the right side of his face with one pale blue eye that pointed in a different direction from the other. He was a nice guy but at first glance you would be grateful you were not meeting him in a dark alley.
He was on his bicycle in the suburbs, a 35 MPH speed zone, probably moving 25 MPH (one of his hobbies was bicycle racing), ignoring the badly-engineered bike path next to the road. The bike path might have been suitable for small children going six or eight MPH, but not for an adult at any real speed because it dropped down across numerous driveways with shrubbery blocking the cyclist from view of any car exiting the driveway, and vice versa.
A motorist decided that it was his civic duty to tell Roger to get off the road and onto the bike path. Roger had every legal right to be on the road, and he just waved acknowledgement to the motorist and kept on pedaling. This didn’t satisfy the motorist, he sped ahead and stopped, blocking Roger’s path. Roger rode around him and kept pedaling, so the motorist repeated the maneuver, this time turning at an angle and blocking the whole lane. That’s when Roger had had enough.
As Roger told me, “I guess he must have seriously underestimated my size.” When Roger uncurled himself from the racing position on his bike, the invective from the motorist ceased and he began rolling up his window as quickly as he could. That was not quick enough. Roger picked up a small stone from the gutter, used that in his fist to shatter the nearly raised window, reached into the car where the motorist was scrambling towards the passenger seat — and removed the keys from the ignition.
He threw them as far as he could into the thick brush alongside the road, bent down and looked with his bi-directional stare past the shattered fragments of tempered glass still sticking to the window guide rails, smiled, and said, “You have a nice day, sir”, got back on his bike and pedaled away.
Roger was an interesting guy.”
A Tense Altercation On The Streets Of Chicago
“It was late at night, and I was driving home from work on the foggy streets of Chicago.
Anyway, I’m coming up to where the lane ends and I’m doing about 10 over the speed limit when I see in my peripheral vision a guy in a Subaru STi just flying up in my left trying to get in front of me before his lane ends.
His timing was lousy, though and he wasn’t going to make it without hitting my car so he slams on the brakes and slides into a plastic construction barrel before falling in behind me.
He starts to tailgate me in a pretty severe way, riding about a foot off my bumper at 45 MPH. I instinctively slowed down as to allow time to stop if need be, and this jackwagon actually rides closer. I’m shocked he didn’t hit my car.
Well, as luck would have it I was so intently watching this guy in my rear view mirror that I missed the huge manhole cover in my way. I tap the brakes and swerve at the last second, just missing it but Mr. Drive-up-my-butt was not so lucky.
He hits this thing full on, making a huge bang that did not sound at all good. His car looked like it was lowered, and if I had to guess he racked his front clip pretty good but I never really had the chance to find out.
We hit the light just shy of the road opening back up – it was maybe 100 yards away from resuming two lane status. There was an SUV in front of me at the light, and at that very moment my girlfriend called my cell. I look down at my phone tucked under my left thigh when all of a sudden I hear this metallic banging on my window.
This guy had gotten out of his car and was cussing up a storm, MFing me to the moon and back, half in English and half in what sounded like Polish. At first I thought he had a weapon, but he was wearing a leather jacket with buttons on the sleeves, creating a metallic clink every time he struck my window.
Normally, I would just drive away but there was no place to go. I began to roll my window down to tell this guy to chill the eff out but as soon as it got halfway down this guy takes a swing at me.
I instinctively leaned back to slip his punch but the headrest was in the way so he wound up clipping the side of my nose pretty good. My eyes started watering as I pinned his arm against the wheel with my right hand while I reached for the doorhandle with my left.
His weight was on the door though as he was struggling to break free, so I couldn’t get it open to get out and defend myself. He tried to lean in and head butt me but just glanced my head. He smelled strongly of spirits.
While I’m wrestling with this guy in the front seat of my car, the light turns green and the SUV in front of us peels away, not wanting anything to do with the mess I was in.
I shifted my weight to get some leverage and my foot fell off the brake, making the car roll slightly forward. This robbed my attacker of any leverage he had gained. At that moment I was at a pretty big disadvantage and just wanted to get the eff out of Dodge, so I hit the gas.
Well, instead of just letting go and falling away this idiot tries to grab the wheel and turn me off the road. I’m a pretty strong guy though, and it was not happening.
My speed increased swiftly (a V6 Accord does have a bit of pickup) and I passed the spot where the lanes re-opened doing about 50 with this idiot hanging on for dear life.
He lost his grip on the wheel, and he started to reach for the ignition which left his face wide open. I pulled my left arm across my body and hit this moron in the eye with my elbow as hard as I could, causing him to lose his grip and tumble free of my car. The last I saw of him he was in my rear view mirror tumbling down the middle of the street like a empty Red Bull can.
I immediately freaked out, turned my lights off, and hung a right turn into the adjoining neighborhood. I was in a panic, thinking this guy could have easily gotten killed taking a tumble like that.
My mind raced as I took a random route home, cutting through alleys and making random turns in case someone had witnessed what had happened and followed me.
But nobody did. My girlfriend was at the house when I got home, and I shakily asked to borrow her car to ‘run an errand.’ She looked at me kind of funny, so I said I needed to go back to work to get my wallet and I was almost out of gas, and I offered to pick up McDonalds on the way back. This seemed to sate her suspicions.
I immediately drove back to the scene of the crime expecting to see ambulances and cop cars and the like, but there was absolutely no sign of what had transpired. No car, no guy lying unconscious in the road, nothing. If the guy survived the tumble – and it certainly seemed that way – he was no doubt effed up in a pretty severe way. I don’t think anyone could go through something like that and not get injured.
I hit McDonalds, picked up food for the girlfriend and headed back home, my mind swimming with possible outcomes.
I never heard a peep about it, but it’s something I’ll never forget.”
“I Got Out And Hit The Lunatic With A Hammer.”
“A long time ago I was driving in a small town of a third world country, carrying my toolbox to fix some stuff at my store. It was about 10 PM and there were few people driving; in fact, there wasn’t almost anyone on the streets. When I reached a cross road, a guy in front of me was at his phone, apparently texting. I just signaled left, overtook the distracted driver and went on my way. I didn’t honk or even glance at him.
But when the driver saw I overtook him, he got mad out of nowhere. Suddenly he hit the gas and almost collided at me. Then he kept honking and screaming like a lunatic.
I rolled down the passengers window and asked what was the matter. He kept screaming and insulting me. I told him to get lost and went on my way. But he kept tailgating me. At one point, he hit my rear bumper. When I looked at the rearview mirror, he was already out of the car, with an aggressive posture.
I instinctively grabbed my hammer out of the toolbox and got out of my car. He stopped advancing for a moment. He was a chubby and tall man at his late 20s. I was much shorter than him, but much more stronger by far – at the time I was in the professional bodybuilding just to boost the sells at my supplements store. Besides, I was carrying a freaking hammer.
I asked what was the matter, but he kept cursing me and threatening to kill me.
Then he came near me. I had no choice, and swung the hammer and hit right above his knee with the back of the hammer. He led out a scream, but he kept trying to swing at me. This guy was nuts. Even with a crushed leg he was still trying to come for me.
So I lost my mind. I can’t express the feeling with words, but I just want to get rid of the guy. He had saliva accumulated at corners of his mouth, his face was twisted, eyes wide open. He kept limping and threatening me.
So I hit him in the middle of the face with the back of the hammer. With all my strength. It hit him in the nose. Again a creepy scream, but he passed out.
I was trembling. I just wished I was home with my wife and kids, not in that situation. But I hadn’t another choice.
Suddenly I looked around: who saw what happened? Apparently, there was just an old lady at a window nearby looking, and given the circumstances it was improbable that she took my license number. No cameras and no witnesses. So I grabbed the keys of the fallen driver and fled the scene.
I returned home with blood spots at my clothes. I told my wife what happened and the next day we went to the scene in her car and casually entered a store nearby. After shopping a few things, the cashier came with a small talk about a robbery last night. Apparently the victim was attacked by an assailant but he managed to react. The victim, although, was hospitalized with a face trauma.
After the things settled down, somebody told about the so called robbery, and gave me news of the lunatic driver: his cheeky bones were broken, as well as his nose and four teeth. He survived but the guy was traumatized. Not only was this guy a hot head but was a complete liar too. Still, I wasn’t going to say anything. Didn’t want to get involved in that legal mess.
Wherever you are, Mr. Lunatic, I really hope you got flashbacks when you watched the Thor movies.”
Leaving A Hot Head In The Dust
“She didn’t get out of the car… I didn’t give her a chance.
I was driving through rural Ohio trying to get to a client meeting on a warm September day. I was driving my silver Mercedes Benz CLK 320 with the top down. I was wearing a bespoke shirt with cuff links, wooden sunglasses, and a snap brimmed sports cap. I stick out like a sore thumb in the middle of fly over country.
I got stuck behind a pick up truck towing a log splitter going about 35MPH in a 55MPH zone. There was beat up Jeep Liberty between the truck and me. We were traveling down a windy road with no real chance for me to pass. When my turn came, they turned too. I could not find a chance to get around them. After several miles we finally got a straight away where I could safely pass. I waited for the Jeep to pass the truck but she didn’t. Okay, I hit the gas and did a double shot; passing both vehicles (at this point they were going 25MPH in a 55 zone).
I carried one with my drive and into the small village where my client’s business is located. I noticed in the rear view mirror that the Jeep had followed me. As I pulled into the the village I noticed she was getting closer. That is odd I thought. I pulled into the narrow alley next to my meeting. The only reason anyone ever uses that alley is to go to this business. She followed me. Close. This raised a red flag.
Rather than stopping I proceeded through the alley to a short road on the other side. As I made a zig and zag to get a main road this woman starts yelling and screaming at me out of her open window. I turned on to another short (but wide) road that left the village. I get the on the gas and realize she was doing the same. I think she wanted to box me in at a small bridge at the end of road.
She hammered the gas giving her lousy little Jeep the what for. I gently yet firmly hit the brake, made a 3 point turn and left to exit the village using a different route. As I pulled on to the main state route leaving the village I looked in the rear view mirror to see that she had turned around and was still following me!?!
Okay, this is where the story ends. I lay into the throttle on my German built V6. The Mercedes roars to life and smoothly does what it does best. I saw the headlights of the little Jeep getting smaller as she realizes her battle is lost. I’m doing 80MPH as I pass the village limit sign on my way back out to open road.
I have no idea why this lunatic felt so hurt that I would pass her, or what she was trying to accomplish by trying to chase me down. Surely she realized that her lousy little I-4 was no match for the CLK. I gave her the easy out by simply driving away. She didn’t realize that had we gotten out of the cars I would have gotten out with the AR-15 I keep in my truck.
I called my client and rescheduled. This story will forever be with as a reminder of the small mindedness of some people and some places in the world.”
That Awkward Moment When You Know The Person Tailgating You
“My wife and I were driving home after visiting her mom when I noticed headlights quickly approaching in the rear view mirror.
I was already at the speed limit and the car behind could not overtake due to oncoming traffic so the driver was tailgating me and I decided to try ignore him and flick my rear view mirror down to reduce the glare.
The speed limit sign coming up on a straight stretch of road indicates that we can increase speed from the 55 mph to 70 and being in a powerful car and somewhat annoyed by the tailgater I floor the car and quickly get to 110 speed limit where I level off, pleased to see that the tailgater is struggling to catch up.
The road is straight and now there is no oncoming traffic and the driver behind me decided he is going to overtake even though he is going to be well over the limit. His problem is becoming evident though as in his efforts to close the gap we have already covered a large section of the straight section of the road with a blind dip coming up.
My wife and I look in amazement as this tiny, dented Fiat UNO finally comes flying past with the engine sounding like it’s about to tear apart and dangerously swerves in as I slow down so that he is not going to potentially head on with oncoming traffic.
His brake lights flare up and we are forced to slow down to his pace , now well below the limit and crawl along unable to overtake on the solid line.
Sensing that the situation is getting out of hand my wife and I decide to take a detour and we take a right turn into the next road leaving the UNO driver to crawl along.
We are now in a residential area and winding our way through the back streets to make it home without interference when I see headlights in the rear view again. The uno overtakes again and cuts us off.
With no interest in a confrontation with an obviously inebriated or mad person I am selecting reverse when the driver jumps out and starts approaching my window.
‘Oh my God!’ my wife exclaimed, ‘it’s Mike.’
Mike is my colleague at work and he is looking ticked off, hands clenched as he approaches.
I roll down my window and greet him ‘Hey Mike, what’s going on?’
He is immediately taken off guard at the mention of his name and I notice that his eyes are bloodshot and he is now frowning in confusion trying to work out who I was in the dark.
I switched on the cabin light and his demeanor instantly changes. He looks confused and sheepish and quietly says ‘It’s you.’
‘Why were you driving so slow back there?’ he starts to mumble.
‘We have to get home; we have work tomorrow, we can chat then.’
He ambled back to his car and with a wave drove off.
‘What was that all about?’ my wife asked.
I found out later that he was having some marital issues and had moved out of his family home.
He was not at work the next day, nursing a hangover no doubt, and when he did get back the incident was never discussed.
I thought I knew this person but I think I may have met him for the first time that night.”
Don’t Mess With This Dude In The Drive Thru
“I went to a drive thru for food while I was on duty, but driving my own personal vehicle. And in fact on that day, it wasn’t even my vehicle, but my father’s Oldsmobile because it was less conspicuous than my big black truck with six antennas, specialty plates, and department decals on the window. I ordered, got to the window, and paid. Then the drive thru employee asked if I minded driving to the side and waiting by that door. Ok, no problem. Drove forward, parked where requested.
This dude in a BMW (a 3 series so probably a cheap lease) drives in the EXIT and tries to go around, but can’t because I’m in the lane. If he had gone in the right way, it wouldn’t have been a problem. In fact, I wouldn’t have blocked anyone who was using the appropriate lanes or following the arrows.
Dude honked. I did nothing.
Dude flashed his lights. I did nothing.
Dude honked and yelled. I did nothing.
Dude gets out of his car. I see the lady coming towards me with my order. I look back, and dude took off his fancy sports coat and rolled up his sleeves. Lady in his car is yelling at him to not do anything stupid.
I put my hand up to tell the lady with my food to stop where she is, I get out of my car, draw my taser, and order him to stop. He didn’t stop.
I could smell the sprits and cheap cologne coming off him. I aim the taser and click the trigger to the first click, which turns a bright light and a laser onto whatever I’m pointing at. He hesitates, then keeps coming forward.
So I pulled the trigger. He goes down. I tell the employee I’m sorry, would you mind taking that inside and keeping it warm for me.
Reached back into my car, picked up my Nextel, called dispatch and advised I deployed my taser at my location and I needed a supervisor and an ambulance. She’s confused because I was currently showing as “on meal break” but sends what I asked for.
I go to the dude and he’s still on the ground. His date, who’s slightly more sober than he is, is screaming at him from the car.
Dude has peed his fancy pants.
Long story short, the workers call an ambulance. An EMT pulls the barbs out of him, check his pulse, and declare him okay. A city police car shows up, gives him a breathalyzer, hooks him up for aggravated assualt. Tows his car, someone calls a cab for the apparently 17-year-old girl in the passenger seat (he was 21)
The supervisor and I walk inside the restaurant to finish the paperwork. They gave me my food, freshly remade. Supervisor orders food too, we eat and do paperwork, and I left a few extra bucks in the tip jar.”
This Biker Took Matters Into His Own Hands
“Well, there was an aggressive driver who almost killed me on the road, but he wasn’t the one to get out of the car, I was. Also, I wasn’t even in a car, I was on a motorcycle. That’s why he almost killed me!
One cool gray morning, I was on my way in and some guy in a BMW decided he had enough of sitting in traffic, so he pulled into the commuter lane without looking. Right in front of me. Luckily, I always ride anticipating some moronic behavior, so I responded by braking and swerving into the emergency lane to avoid being crushed. I honked my little horn on the motorcycle and may or may not have made an obscene gesture. Those of you who ride know what it’s like. Those of you who don’t ride, you probably don’t get it.
So this guy, as is typical when you call someone out on their stupid driving, decides to be offended and proceeds to brake check me several times and gesture in his mirror. Ok, cool dude, you win. You’re in a 3500 pound car, I’m on a 500 pound motorcycle. It never ends well for the person on the bike, so I just kept my distance for the next couple miles.
Funny thing is, we ended up taking the same exit. Great. It was a two lane exit and due to traffic I ended up next to him on the off ramp. i was over the incident for the most part, but apparently he was not. You’ll never believe what he did next. He decides to swerve into me a few times, back and forth and stick his arm out the window with a shaking fist. Uhh, you’re overreacting a little there buddy, but you’re also trying to kill me! I was ticked off again, more than the first time, because now he was intentionally acting like an idiot. I tried to keep my distance but somehow ended up behind him at the next traffic light. I had to let him know exactly what I thought of him at this point.
Lights are interminable in that area, so I got off my bike and walked up to his car in full motorcycle gear. He was looking in his mirror yelling at me and when he saw me coming, waved his fist out the window again. By this time I was next to his door and I proceeded to flip my visor up on my helmet so he could hear me. He decided he wanted to get out but something was holding him back. It was his seatbelt! He forgot to undo it so was trapped in the car, door cracked open. I grabbed the seatbelt, pulled it forward out of the retractor, wrapped it around his neck, pulled it tight, and thumped him as hard as I could in the chest.
His eyes went wide, the stupid noises stopped coming out of his mouth, replaced by a gasp, and he kind of sagged back into his seat. I told him something about watching out for motorcycles and to take responsibility for being a lousy driver, and hastily went back to my bike. The light had changed and cars were starting to honk so I had to get moving. The guy in the BMW was still sitting there and cars were trying to go around, and so did I. The next couple of miles to work were kind of a blur and I couldn’t modulate my throttle very well due to my hand shaking from the adrenaline. When I got to work, I took about an hour to really calm down, because I’m not a violent person but there’s only so much stupidity I can take.
So that’s my story, the worst experience I’ve had with a stupid driver while riding my bike.”
Fake It Til You Make It
“Many years ago when I was young and had a mischievous streak there was an incident in a parking lot. I have no clue what the other driver was doing, he pulled half way into a parking spot, then pulled out half way into another spot, then pulled all the way into the first spot, then backed straight out in pulled all the way into another spot. Since the parking lot was pretty empty I just drove around his area and parked my car in the next parking lane over. The driver who looked about my age (early to mid 20s) came over and started yelling about how he was going to kick my rear end because of my bad parking. I was kind of shocked because I wasn’t expecting this response and I was a little annoyed because he was the guy who couldn’t figure out how to park in a nearly empty lot.
My first thought was to yell back at him over his strange parking behavior, but instead I turned to him and said “Look bro, I can’t help you. I don’t make these arrangements myself. You need to have your agent call my publicist and he can setup a fight.” He looked at me dumbfounded and said “What?” I admit that I was a bit confused myself because that was not something I thought about before I spoke, I’m not a professional fighter and I don’t have a publicist, it all just sort of came out in the moment. But I made a deliberate decision to double down and play up the lie. So I reiterated that my publicist is in charge of setting up my fights, I don’t make those kinds of calls in a parking lots. Then I encouraged him to definitely reach out if he feels he has enough wins under his belt to make that challenge, because that’s kinda how I got my shot at the title.
The guy took a step back looking totally confused and I asked him “That’s what you want right? You recognize me and want a chance at my title?” The guy stared at me and started saying he didn’t know me, so I cut him off with “Wait you don’t know who I am? You don’t recognize me at all? You don’t watch the fights on Pay Per View or anything?” His eyes went wide and he said “No, man I don’t know who you are at all!” while taking a few more steps back.
I did an over dramatic facepalm and said “So let me get this straight, you don’t know me but you think it’s a good idea to pick a fight with me anyway? Okay, look. I don’t get paid to fight random dudes in parking lots. There are no cameras, no crowds and no prize money here so I’m going to do you a favor and I’m just going walk away okay?” I then walked away without even waiting for his response.
I don’t know where the idea of pretending to be a pro fighter came from, it certainly wasn’t something I had ever thought of doing or had planned in any way. Honestly I’m surprised that it worked and consider myself very lucky that it did.”
Sometimes The Best Thing To Do Is Honestly Nothing
“I had some guy cut me off without using his signal just a couple of weeks ago. When I sounded my horn to indicate my displeasure with his maneuver, he brake-checked me — twice. I turned into the parking lot of the convenience store where I had already been planning to shop for a snack, and as I parked and exited my car I noticed the idiot parking next to me. He had turned left at the light just ahead of where I turned, and followed me into the gas station lot via the side entrance. I knew then that he was spoiling for a fight.
I went into the store to pick up my choice of caffeine and meat-flavored protein snack, and as I finished making my selections I noticed the idiot entering the store and heading in my direction, a look of anger on his face. He was like a strawberry-haired fireplug, at least four inches shorter than me, and noticeably older as well. Each time he advanced toward me, I backed away; several times he turned and stalked away, only to turn back toward me as I took a few steps toward the cashier to pay for my stuff. He loudly declared his opinions as to my character and orientation, filled with ‘f‘ this and ‘idiot’ that, ‘step outside so I can kick your a*’, that sort of thing.
After a couple of minutes of this, he decided to go outside and wait for me, no doubt to supply the butt-kicking I so richly deserved for daring to honk at him. I paid for my items and stepped outside, toward my car, only to notice him standing behind both of our vehicles, in the space between them, playing with his phone. He saw me and started walking toward me once again, and I continued backing away. I fully intended to enter my car via the passenger door, then climb over and make my escape, but the opportunity to do so was not yet present.
At one point, he felt it was important that I knew that he was 59 years old, mentioned it twice. At another point he paused his verbal assault as a couple of people passed near to enter the store, and he said he was going to wait for the witnesses to go away. I responded that I wanted the witnesses to be present all around. This was rewarded with more insults from him.
Eventually, he realized that he just wasn’t going to get me to strike at him first, which I later decided is what he was most likely trying to do, so he walked away, smacked my driver’s wing mirror hard enough to fold it inward, and went around to his driver’s side. He made a final shout that he was going to get my information (from my license plate, apparently) and make my week a nightmare. I got in my car, unfolded the mirror, and split.”
