Hyundon’t [Hey, You!]

Illustration by Bob Aul

On the rear window of your black Hyundai hatchback is a white sticker of Alan and Baby Carlos from The Hangover. I’ve studied this picture religiously because you’ve just as religiously cut me off every day for the past six months. For months, I seethed with anger, but I wanted vengeance. I began waking up earlier, driving faster and practicing my quick-turn cut-off move on strangers, awaiting the day I’d get you back. It was like an ’80s training montage, except I felt like more of a villain than a hero. Earlier this week, I saw you approaching in my rearview mirror as we were off El Toro Road at 7 a.m. I grinned menacingly as you neared, swerved hard and jammed on the brakes. You panicked and skidded across the lane while I laughed victoriously. But a sheriff’s deputy who witnessed the incident—and knew nothing of our feud—stopped and ticketed me. Touché, Hyundai.

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to letters@ocweekly.com.

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