The Forgotten Option

With much satisfaction I noticed the appreciation for my machine in the eyes of the 80 year old man in the weathered Dodge.  He was no doubt day dreaming of the freedom two wheels gave you, one he probably knew from a younger time, and a gentler place.   But I was soon to find out that with that loving stare brought the angry man's truck frustrated from its lack of attention into my oncoming lane.  At first it was just a foot or so, but soon he was all the way over straining to get a closer look.  Having little space to go around him in his careless wander, I briefly weighed my options; slam on the brakes at 55mph attempting a manuevre I had only imagined before, or swerve off the road to avoid him into the gravel and grass.  At the last minute I remember a forgotten option in the hopes of waking him from his meandering.   I gave him an animated finger followed closely with some obscene remarks about his poor driving abilities and thankfully at the last minute he woke, swerved back into his lane and passed me at a safe foot or so away.    Looking for a place to pull over after realizing I was still alive, heart pounding almost painfully in my chest, I gently pulled to the side, dropped my kickstand with grace, and thanked my ever vigilant appendage for again saving the day.