Somwhere north Ashland, Oregon I was on a big highway for a bit. From the SUV in front of me, a woman’s arm kept waving at truckers asking them through the universal pulling motion to honk their horns.

A few did, most didn’t, and then she started doing that motion accompanied with what appeared to be the removal of her top. Then the truckers really started letting the horns fly. This went on for a while but because of traffic circumstances I couldn’t get around to see this thing I’d only ever heard tales of. In the world I frequent, women don’t flash truckers, the women I know and have known, would never think to do that.

Finally, my chance came and I took advantage of a break in traffic. I zoom ahead and look to my left and in that van is the silouette of a man driving and next to that silouette a hideous stomach churning freak peering out at me, leering at me. The arm I saw waved and I sped away faster than I thought my truck was capable of. Had the police stopped me I’d have told them my tale and asked that they taser me so that maybe some short term memory loss would happen and that image, that horrible horrible image, would no longer be in my brain.