DRIVING, MISSED CRAZY

I hate to drive, never liked it, never will. I detested for 19 years driving to work every morning and evening.

One of the things that made me nuts was the need to sit in traffic and wait to move, slowly, bumper to bumper, moving slower than a snail, watching the seasons change before your eyes, and some of the disgusting habits some of the drivers exhibited. I won’t go there but imagine it if you will, as you are trying to munch down a roll or donut you shouldn’t be eating anyway. (Food always taste best when you shouldn’t have them.)

But there is the NUT factor to consider also. No matter what time during rush hour there is always someone who is seeking to set the new land speed record. They attempt this while putting on makeup, doing their nails or texting, and these are just the men!

There are two kinds of traffic days that I recall best. The wide-open roads and the bumper to bumper days. Bumper to bumper you go nowhere and do it slowly. The other way, the wide opened one is when someone or more decides they will make it to work before the even leave their house, driving at maniacal speed, cutting between cars, shifting lanes and scaring the Hell out of everyone. These morons find it necessary to get on your tail thinking it will speed up the traffic pattern, scare me or do both. Being stubborn I slow down and make them go around me.

All days are wide open ones, it’s just that people see it wide open and take chances, ergo, slowing down everything and everyone.

When it comes to rubber-necks, I often wonder what the fascination is to slow down, look at someone being body-bagged and seeing the total wreckage. Once their fascination is quenched, they step on it, blowing by the Boeing 747 flying above them, but now also behind. The next accident is just down the road.