You are a middle-aged woman going to pick up your daughter from high school, and I have to tell you, you have problems that need to be addressed before something tragic happens.

Me? I’m just a middle-aged guy trying to pick up my daughter from high school. When I made my turn into the high school parking lot, I’ll admit I thought you were going to turn a different direction and a collision could have occurred. My bad. But I stopped in plenty of time to avoid hitting you, so no harm done, right?

So why you stopped in front of my car and screamed out of your window at me when you could have just kept going – ignoring the whole incident – is beyond my comprehension, especially since we were both heading into the same small parking lot and so may be spending more time in close proximity.

You pulled into a parking spot, your daughter walked to your vehicle and got in, and all the while you watched me park, rolled down your window and glared at me. You were obviously hoping for a confrontation.

Even though I needed to get out of my car and go get my daughter, I sat in my car and waited until you drove off because, well, let’s face it, I am a gentle man. I find it amusing that you have no clue that the person you were spoiling for a fight with is a former military special forces and a large, strong man.

Fortunately for you, I wasn’t interested in falling into your hole of emotional vigilantism. I made a mistake and left it at that, no matter how much you wanted to escalate the situation.

As I waited for you to leave, a thought struck me and made me giggle: I hope you don’t visit our local casinos because you do not know how to gamble. Although you don’t recognize it, you were the loser across the board in this situation, yet you still wanted to bet.

After you left, I walked to my daughter’s classroom as you tried to chase down the sheriff’s car as it drove by, to tell on me. Hopefully he told you that YOU were the one suffering from road rage, and should count your blessings that I did not rise to your challenge. I hope you’re as fortunate with the next guy you get stupid with.

So to sum up: I ask you to do some self-reflection and think about how you handled the situation with me, and how you looked to your daughter. I didn’t do anything to you on a personal level, despite what you think. And everyone else could learn something from us.

Ross A. Christensen lives in Clearlake Oaks.