Wasn’t exactly ‘road rage’, but the guy was pretty pushy…

My mother was stopped at a red light. When it turned green, the car died. She tried to start it, again and again, and it just wouldn’t start. In the meantime, the guy in the convertible behind her was insistently laying on his horn, cussing a blue streak, and gesturing wildly.

Finally, fed up with his abuse, my mother carefully exited the car. Standing up she straightened her skirt, ‘plumped’ her hair, and gracefully walking back to the convertible, she said, oh-so-sweetly,

“Sir, as you can see, I’m having trouble starting my car. But if you’d like to try starting it for me, I’ll be happy to stay here and honk your horn for you!”