Tuesday, October 12, 2004

fits of imagined violence

Daily life in Beijing has been doing wonders for my imagination. When cars cut me off as I'm riding my bike, or when the random hand thrusts across my face while I'm standing in line in front of a ticket window, my brain seems to recoil into moments of absolute fantasy. Fantasies that involve elbowing the line jumper in the face and kicking him in the stomach as he's collpsed on the ground. Fantasies of slamming my fist onto the hood of the black Audi (because black Audis are the worst, really) and getting into a shouting match with the driver. I imagine the driver getting out of the driver's seat and I envision punching him in the face repeatedly while shouting, "Learn to drive, motherfucker!" I would pick up my bike and throw it through his windshield scratching the immaculate paint job on the vehicle. I dream about jumping up and down on the roof screaming, "Stop at the red light, fuck face! Who do you think you are?!?! It's not even your car! You're just the DRIVER!"

Yes, indeed - highly evolved and civilized behavior. At least it's only a fantasy. I rationalize that it helps me let go of tension, but is there ever a good way to relieve road rage? If anyone has any ideas, I got a serious case of pedestrian self-righteousness brewing.

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