An Open letter to the people driving behind me

Dear Person Driving Behind Me,
I would like to start by first paying you a compliment as I was told once that when writing a letter such as this it’s always best to open with a compliment or two. Your ability to drive so close to me that I can see the whites of your eyes and read your lips as you talk on your cell phone (yes, I love you too and no, I won’t tell you what I am wearing) is truly amazing! For reals; great great job! And the way that you manage to concentrate on driving, talking on your phone and lighting up a smoke while all the while blasting your Dub Step at a volume that makes kittens fall out of trees is just…WOW!! you are my hero! the wind beneath my wings even!
Now that being said I really have to ask: Where are you going in such a hurry that putting my childrens lives at risk makes sense to you? What makes you so God all bloody mighty that YOU think you have the right to disobey the signs that say 50kms/hr?? Who was it exactly that told you that you are such a speshul little snowflake that you can do what you like no matter what? Cause let me tell you my friend: they lied. I know how frustrating it is to follow behind someone doing the speed limit when you are late. I know how aggravating it feels to know that you are late for something important and I could get there on time if you just drove a little faster. I also know however that the other cars on the road are filled with people. That old man in front of you slowing you down? That’s someones Dad, Brother, Son, Grandfather and husband. The car to your left? Thats a Mom and a Dad bringing their new baby home from the hospital. And that mini-van you just passed on the right? That was me and my children. My kids are my entire world and I am theirs. They are all I have in this life and I am all they have too. Every time we get in the car I risk all of our lives to get us where we need to be knowing that people like YOU are out there, and I hate it. When I listen to the news and hear yet another story of a family that was torn apart because one of your jack-ass counterparts caused a crash: my heart breaks. So here’s the deal: Slow the fuck down and back the fuck off. Turn your phone to hands free and turn your shitty excuse for music down so you can pay attention to what is going on around you while you are operating your half tonne death machine. I place my kids lives in your hands every time we get in the car, and I promise you this: if you hurt them, you won’t walk away.
Love always,
ps – it sooo wasn’t me that let the air out of your tires while you stopped for gas

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