The occasional narcissist

I was driving home in bad weather today in stop and go traffic. You know, the kind of traffic that just rocks you to sleep. I was in front of a commercial van and behind some sports car and moved up a half of a car length to close the gap. The van behind me didn't move. As I started to smell something funny, the van blinked its high beams at me, twice, three, four times. It still didn't move up. I started looking to the van to try to see if the driver was signaling to me as I moved up another car length. The passenger reached out his hand in front of the vehicle, and I began to panic. Is something wrong with my car? Am I on fire? I searched for the funny smell, and then I saw what the passenger was really doing. He was throwing water on the van's windshield from inside. As the van turned on its wipers, I realized that he wasn't signaling me. In fact, it had nothing to do with me. He had been searching for the wiper fluid switch, perhaps not familiar with the van controls. As his buddy threw his drink up against the window, the van's wipers came on, and he continued to move up. Sometimes I can be such a narcissist.