I am a totally self-focused, strong, independent woman in my silver Lexus. I don't use blinkers because I know where I am going and I don't care if no one else knows. I drive slowly when you are behind me because I am a bitter, selfish person who gets pleasure out of aggravating other drivers. I see that you have a large truck with heavy grill guard which will crush my Lexus if you actually hit me, but I trust your self-restraint enough that I am going to fuck with you and dare you to hit me even though I know it could kill me. I'm an American woman, rich and powerful. You won't hit me. You wouldn't dare.
I chose a Lexus because that's what all the other managers drive and also because its just as uppity as a Jaguar, but without the stigma of being openly pretentious that Jag has. I chose silver because I feel that silver effectively communicates to the world that I am above you all, especially the ordinary workers. I am in management. I am important. I am more important than you.
I work at BAE Systems, a woman-owned company in massive decline with broad management problems related to the extreme micromanaging we do here. The intense bitchiness doesn't help any, either. We promote based on sex, and female is the only sex that counts in America, so we only promote females. They know they were promoted based on their vaginas and so they are anxious to prove that they deserve to be in charge regardless. This is why they micromanage their subordinates so badly. I am one of them, a micromanaging vagina promoted beyond my level of competence. Hence the pretentious silver Lexus that I drive, my bitterness, and my habit of fucking with men in traffic while on my way to work.
I hate my job. I hate BAE Systems. I hate the stress of knowing that I don't really know what I'm doing and the constant fear that everyone else knows, too. As much as I micromanage the employees under me, my bitch of a boss micromanages me. It's hell. There's so much estrogen in this place we could almost bottle it and sell it to post-menopausal women for supplements. Sure, we're connected to the defense industry, but the only thing manly about what we do here is the phallic shape of the weapons we work on. The stress levels in this place are high enough to cause miscarriages and mental breakdowns. Some think there already have been mental breakdowns, but the level of crazy is just so high that you can't tell the difference.
I guess the real reason that I drive to work slowly in the passing lane, spending so much time and effort blocking other drivers who are trying to get to work is the fact that I hate my job and don't want to be here. I'd rather fuck around in traffic for an extra 30 minutes than be at my desk feeling my blood pressure rising while dodging my boss or the latest fucking stupid, useless meeting where we are all demeaned and humiliated by some twat on speakerphone whose ass we have to kiss day in and day out even though we've never actually met her face-to-face. They constantly hint about layoffs while shifting more and more of our work to Connecticut, which raises our stress levels ever higher. My God, Connecticut, the virtual capital of cuntliness! The only people here who are willing to transfer up there are lesbians, because that's all there is in Connecticut - lots and lots of angry lesbians.
So I guess the reason that I fuck with all of you in traffic is that I am miserable. And I want you to be miserable too. I'm a cunt.
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