MAY 12, 4:00 P.M.
On my way back from the athletic club this afternoon, I was driving down Fullerton going south. I was in search of some food to pick up on the way to my spa appointment. I only like to eat healthy food after a vigorous work out, so I chose to stop at one of those wraps stores that have opened up all over the village. They are very useful when you have a full kitchen at home and no intention of getting back to it before your appointment.
Anyway, as I was turning right on Clark at Fullerton, a driver cuts across my lane. I press the Jetta’s horn, rather longer than necessary.
I have always believed in making sure the other driver knows what happened. He was already well down Clark by the time I stopped, so I cannot say whether the treatment had the intended effect.
I pulled over for my wrap instead of following him. By the time I reached the spa, I had explained the incident twice, once to the woman taking my order and once to the receptionist. Both asked whether I was all right. I was, though I had nearly missed my appointment.
That’s all for this week’s Jetta.
—Ashley Munroe
