—He Asked For That—
—Chattanooga, Tennessee. A few years ago—
I was on my way to Chattanooga, Tn. to stay with a friend for the weekend.
Outside of Chattanooga, I got into traffic—bumper to bumper.
I was leaving two car lengths between my vehicle and the vehicle in front of me.
Suddenly, the car behind me swings around me and gets in front of me.
He flips me off— and so it begins.
I honked my horn many times. He keeps slamming on his brakes as we move forward. I continue to honk; he continues to flip me off.
As soon as we get up to 15 mph, he slams on his breaks, causing me to slam on my breaks.
I was in a road rage incident and did not even realize it.
Back and forth we went. Him flipping me off and slamming on his brakes, and me honking my horn.
Finally, he hops out of his vehicle and walks back to my vehicle.
He puts his head inside my vehicle and begins cussing me.
I felt threatened. His head was inside my vehicle. I was scared.
I did not have a gun for self-defense, so I used what I did have—my colostomy bag—full of poop.
I pulled my shirt up and pulled my bag off.
I hit him right in the face with the bag full of poop.
It got all over his face.
Immediately, he stopped cussing. He stopped talking.
Looking down, he saw the hole in my stomach and the poop shooting out of it.
Visibly stunned, he slowly backed out of the cab of my truck.
He began walking backward toward his vehicle.
Keeping his eyes on me, he reaches down, opens his door, and gets inside his car.
He then swings his vehicle around and drives back in the other direction.
I honk as he goes by. “Honk-Honk,” and I wave bye to him.
Hopping out of my vehicle, I picked up my colostomy bag that was lying on the pavement.
I put it back on and waved to the vehicle behind me.
They were the only ones to see this whole event unfold.— I guess they had a story to tell once they reached their destination.
I called my Uncle to learn the legal ramifications of what happened.
He said, “He asked for that crap!”
