500 Miles & a Creepy Truck Driver

I drove 500 miles today, a trip I have made many, many times in the past eight years. I hate this trip.
When I left my ex-husband, I moved the boys and myself 500 miles away. He was mean to them, and it was escalating to what would very soon be violence.
I grew up abused, no way in hell was I going to allow that to happen to my kids.
So, I packed them up and moved 500 miles away from anyone or anything I knew. When we arrived in Ohio, I did not know a single person.
But, I hoped that with the distance between them, the boys dad might be nice to them when he did see them. For the most part, it has worked.
However, several times each year, I make the trek to the halfway point to take the boys to spend time with their dad.
I hate that damn trip.
I don't know if I have ever mentioned before, but I don't like to drive. Not because I am a bad driver, but because there are so many morons on the road.
They irritate me. Somebody does something monumentally stupid behind the wheel and the She-Hulk puts in an appearance.
I rant.
I rage.
I pound the steering wheel.
My face turns an unflattering shade of red, flames shoot from my eyes, smoke from my ears, and I grind my teeth to sharp little nubs.
And it's so bleeding boring!
Hours and hours just sitting, staring at the road, watching out for aforementioned morons, road construction, and tractor-trailers.
Today on my way to pick D up from a week at his dad's, I had a creepy trucker experience. Have you ever had one of these?
Fifteen miles from the house at about 6:00am this morning, a humongous orange rig pulls up beside me, and matches my speed. I look over and there is this fairly normal looking guy smiling at me and giving me "thumbs up".
I smile and wave, then return to focusing on my coffee and keeping the beat with the oh so talented Freddie Mercury and Queen. (The BEST band EVER, and I was heartbroken when he died).
As I switched CD's to the amazing Sarah MacLachlan, I realized that Mr. Trucker dude was STILL matching my speed, but now pulling slightly ahead on my right and waving to get my attention. When I looked at him, he made the "ok" sign with his thumb and forefinger, winked and got this really big, creepy smile on his face.
Then after a while of this (several miles), he grabbed a piece of paper, and fanning himself mouthed "your so hot". Still grinning like a loon.
Okay.
Now, lets look at a few facts, shall we?
I had been awake for exactly 45 minutes after about four hours of sleep. I was on my first cup of coffee and I am a 40 year old chubby chick, with my hair scraped back into a braid, no makeup, and a "comfy" dress designed to not make me want to rip off all my clothes and run screaming through the truckstop after being in the car for many hours with no A/C.
One word covers todays look quite well: EWWW!
HOT never even entered into the same solar system as me today.
And still, this trucker continued this charade for an hour and a half! This guy needs an intervention. Or a cell. Not quite sure which.
So, by this time I was fairly well creeped out, and when I saw a sign for a truckstop, I decided rather quickly that the time had come to end my lurid trucker affair, and dashed off the offramp, double checking that he did not follow.
Several hours later after I had picked D up from his dad and we were back on the road heading home, I told him about the trucker.
His response?
"Ya know mom, that guys probably a perpetrator".
I had to stop the car to wipe a tear of pride from my eye.
The only reason I could think of for the guys bizarre behavior was my bumper sticker.
You see, I have a sticker on the back of my car that reads "Well behaved women seldom make history".
So, all I could surmise is that this Neanderthal read this sticker and instead of correctly interpreting that I am slightly feminist and refuse to "know my proper place" as a woman, he probably read it and thought "Woo Hoo! a bad girl! I could get lucky today".
Ick.
Creep.