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Welcome to Warren.

October 27, 2008 - Paul Giannamore

So, I'm on the way to LaBrae Friday night to see the last Crusaders football game of the season and The Drummer's final performance after seven years with the high school marching band (he started in fifth grade, not that he's going to high school on the seven year plan).

And it's raining. And dark. And I'm circling between Warren and Youngstown on one of those wonderful LEFT exit highways. My LEFT is a mile ahead, in the rain and dark, and there's traffic all over the place, including some guy towing a little rowboat in the right lane. I'm just biding my time, right at the speed limit, waiting to get to my LEFT exit. It's not as if I can just drive in the right lane and bide time. I have to be in the LEFT lane, which, apparently, is for NASCAR wannabes in Warren.

And then the Dale Earnhardt Sr. clone comes up from behind and starts flashing his lights. I'm just heading to the exit, mind you. If I pass the little boat towing guy on my right, I might just squeeze in but then I'd have to figure how to get to my LEFT exit within a half mile with plenty of traffic zigging in and out. So, I pick up the pace a little, and keep going.

Apparently, I never saw my move-over flag.

Earnhardt flashes again and again. I do the responsibly stupid, road raging thing. I brake check. Wife yells. Earnhardt flashes again. I do the next most responsible thing. An upraised right hand with a signal for him.

He flashes some more.

I get to the LEFT exit with his car in bump-draft position, right off Enrico the Cruiser's rear bumper. He gives me the same signal I gave him, keeps going on the highway I exited and honks.

I spend the next hour hearing lectures from The Boss about road rage, blahblah. Point is, I was minding my own business until The Intimidator arrived.

Anyway, remind me. If they ever transfer me to Warren, please have my driver's license revoked and what's left of my brain examined.

They drive like idiots.


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