Almost killed this morning

Scary, scary morning. I've been shaken up all day from this.

Here's the scenario, so you can try and picture it in your head.
I was waiting at a stoplight. It is a two lane light. One lane goes left and one goes right, straight is not an option here. I need to go left so... I wait on the white line between the two lanes. Sitting there keeps me out of the busy right-turn-on-red lane and, because it is a wide intersection, left-turning cars still have plenty of room to take off when the light turns green. I always ride ride straight across to the far side of the intersection before turning left, thus keeping me almost completely out of both of the lanes of flowing traffic.

So anyway, the light turns and I start to go across the intersection. Behind me I hear a horn start blaring. I finish making the left and I turn to make eye contact with the noisy driver.
The driver of a white Nissan Maxima is seriously agiatated and he wants me to know it. He is yelling something and pointing a finger at me. He pulls up beside me and rolls the passenger window down and starts shouting something. I really can't make out what he's yelling about.

"What?" I ask, shouting over him, "I wasn't in your way and I wasn't slowing you down... so what's the problem?!" He keeps on shouting and I repeat myself "I wasn't slowing you down, what's your problem?!"
He is still yelling, so I stand up on the pedals and start sprinting away. The driver then speeds up to overtake me and CUTS THE WHEEL HARD RIGHT. The car swerves wildly into the breakdown lane, directly at me. I stand on the pedals while jacking hard on the brakes. My back wheel locks and I start skidding towards the curb. I almost lose control, but my ninja bike handling skills save the day.
The driver begins speeding away while looking over his shoulder at me.

I yell something.
I cant remember exactly what, but I'm pissed! It probably went something like "Fuck You, you Fucking Fuck!"

The road-rage maniac apparently hears me shouting and slams on his brakes so hard that all four wheels lock up. Smoke is coming from the tires as he skids toward the shoulder.

I speed up along side of him and he starts chasing me. He is directly to my left but I've got an open parking lot to my right now so, I can swerve away from him if he tries the ramming stunt again.
I lean toward the window and begin shouting things that insult his manhood for attempting to hit me with his big metal car.

The driver begins shouting some more and making gestures like he is going to stop and get out of the car. I reach up to the strap buckle on my messenger bag so I can get it off quickly if this turns into a self-defense situation.

He must have been really late for work because he decided he didn't want to continue trying to run me over and instead he sped away. I flip him off repeatedly, yelling "Fuck You" at the top of my lungs.
For a moment I fantasize about catching him at the next stop light, dragging him from his car and beating him with my U-lock but, he never stops at the light. I hear him screetch around the corner and rocket towards the I-95 onramp.
Nice...

What would I have done if he got out of the car? What if he had a gun? A knife? I'm glad I didn't have to find out.

So tonight, I got home from work, poured myself a beer, counted all the things I'm grateful for and thanked the universe that I'm still on this side of the dirt. It could have been worse. Much worse.

Now I need to map out a new commute route to work before tomorrow.