Chapter 1 - Road Rage

It was the usual Monday morning drive along the Coastal Highway to work. The sun had not yet risen, but that didn't stop my head from pounding from too many beers on the beach the day before. My oceanfront condo was a great investment even with the real estate bust of 2005. I bought the seven figure place for mid six figures in the late nineties before the Florida boom.

I usually had the highway to myself at this hour but I noticed headlights in the rear view mirror of my Boxter. The top was down. The air was humid, but not yet hot. It was sort of a facial moisturizer as I drove daily to work at 4 a.m.


The headlights were getting brighter as the vehicle approached faster. It must have been doing over 100 miles per hour since my needle was pushing 95. I never went over 100. I usually set limits for myself. How far I could push without crossing that invisible line I set for most things I do. For the last five years I have been the CFO of Nextec, and believe me, those ethical limits have been pressed just like 100 mph line on the speedometer of my beloved Porsche.

That bastard put his brights on and I pushed the rear view mirror away to deflect the piercing light from the blue lights approaching. It must be a late model Lexus or Benz, some maniacal executive in a bigger rush than me trying to get to the office before 5:00. I heard the roar of the engine, clearly cranking 4000 rpm and doing 120 mph as it passed. It was a Lexus all right, I stayed at 95 and let him back in, as if I had any say in the matter. This jerk was clearly a control freak. I decided I would let his red tail lights disappear into the distance. They didn't. Just as abruptly as the headlights appeared so did his brake lights.


The black SC squealed to a complete stop not 500 yards away without fishtailing. As soon as my mind processed this surprised course of events in the dark along Flagler Beach, the unobstructed ocean to the right and rows of "c" class condos to the left, my right foot was pressing the brake pedal harder than ever before. With my hands holding the steering wheel tight I swerved to the left into what would be oncoming traffic when the rest of the world was awake, but a void in space at this insane hour of the day. The hour was somewhere between partiers crashing and sane people waking. Here I was with this asshole on the two lane highway. I passed him at about fifty and honked hard to alert him of my displeasure as I passed him.

I hit the accelerator as hard as the brake and felt my tires spin for the very first time. I squealed the tires as I broke my self imposed limit, I reached forward and re-adjusted the rear view mirror then started to alternate my eyes between the rear view and speedometer, and road ahead. The needle handily passed 100
and moved to 120, 130. The machine felt like it was at half the speed I read on the dash. The blue high beams of the Lexus started to grow in my rear view mirror. My headache was replaced with the sensation of adrenaline. The flee response never felt greater in my forty two years. I do not remember if it was fear or anger that overtook me next.

The Lexus finally caught me, not from the lack of agility of the Porsche, but the obvious experience of my competitor, or inexperience on my part. He caught up next to me and we road in unison northbound towards St. Augustine. The Lexus was in the southbound lane, no obstacle from oncoming traffic in sight. As I accelerated, so did the Lexus. 150, 160, then came the burst of speed from the Lexus and he passed me by about 100 yards, then pulled in front of me and slammed on his brakes, the red illumination bound to hide the impending bloodbath from the crash. There was no time to swerve this time and I ploughed dead into him. He must have released the brake and place the transmission into neutral because I pushed him 500 yards – both vehicles airbags deploying as we went. It seemed like an eternity passed before we came to a stop in the middle of the highway.

I realized the incident was over with somewhat of an under climactic finish to the rush that ended without carnage. The damage to the Boxter was the last thing on my mind. Revenge for the anguish was all I thought of as I opened the door and hurried to the car in front, prepared to engage in probably the most aggressive ass chewing I had ever released on another human being.