Behind an Angry Native American

Being from the midwest where there aren't a lot of Native Americans about, I'm not really used to encountering them, in traffic or otherwise. I can pretty much guarantee you that if I know you and you are Native American, it's possible I don't realize it. I don't mean this as a sort of a slight or disrespect - I'm just not terribly good at compartmentalizing people, especially people I'm not that familiar with. I probably think you are foreign - which is obviously not right.
Today in traffic I found myself behind a van that was rife with bumper stickers. I am a bumper sticker reader so I inched up in rush hour non-moving traffic to have a read.
*Custer got Sioux'd* - okay, that was sort of funny. I try to remember if it WAS actually the Sioux.......find I have no idea and move on to the next one.
*America - Love it Or Leave* - that's strange, okay.......
*This land is not your land, this land is OURS*......oh....I get it
*In 1492 a bunch of Native Americans Found Columbus Lost at Sea*....I ponder whether we are supposed to refer to the original inhabitants of Hispaniola as Native Americans, find I don't know the answer to that EITHER - what ARE we supposed to call them? .......
and then I realize that this guy is pissed off.
At me.
For being here.
I am pretty much in touch with the fact that people in other countries are pissed off that America exists. For one reason or another.
But it caught me off guard to feel like, in traffic during rush hour, I'm behind someone who might just hate me. Just because.
I felt pretty bad. Seriously, BUMPER STICKERS gave me white guilt. I wanted to pull up and say "Hey gee, I'm really sorry I know you're pissed off and I can't fix it but I wanted to say I'm SORRY.", but of course I didn't. But by then I realized that I had pulled up beside him and was STARING.
AT
THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL
NATIVE AMERICAN
I HAVE EVER SEEN

This guy could have been on the cover of any BODICE RIPPER romance novel. He made Fabio look like a hobo. He had the long, wavy black hair, the big ripply muscles bursting out of his sleeveless shirt.
And he was grinning at me.
He waved bye when the light turned green and I turned left and he was gone.

I'm not sure now which was more disconcerting, the bumper stickers or his incredible hotness at 8am.

Clearly I'm not up for either thing at that time of day.