Isn't it funny how you'll be driving in traffic, clipping down, say Rt.3, and then, all of a sudden without warning, traffic just stops. Dead. You turn on the radio to listen to traffic and the chirpy little woman coming out of your speakers informs you that "Golly GEE! No back up anywhere! SMOOOOOTH sailing all the way to the Cape!"
And of course you're driving at 9:00pm, when you think there will be absolutely NO traffic what-so-ever. Just one big kick in the head.
Well since my previous blog entitled "My Morning Commute", in which I reviewed, in detail, all of the goings on that happened to me that morning, received such positive feedback, I thought that I would regale the readers of YGIU.com with some tid-bits of my driving experience on Friday the 21st.
The first thing I do when in traffic is call everyone I know to "touch base". No offense to my friends, but talking after a hellish day of work to RE-hash my day, is not my idea of relaxing. I'd rather hit you up when I am driving somewhere or in traffic or after I've had a drink. I feel that this works for everyone. Said friend gets quality phone time with me and I get to touch base while the minutes whittle away and I slowly inch down Rt. 3.
And it has to be said that Rt. 3 is by far the most painful road to drive on. It is a mere two lane road with nothing to look at. And I ALWAYS get some asshole in the left hand lane either going 50 or driving behind me (as I drive 80) with his brights permanently on.
After exhausting my phone book, I then crank out the CD's or plug in my iPod. Have you ever substituted lyrics when you're in the car singing??? For example, I was jamming along to Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start The Fire" (a total classic) and while lounging in the drivers seat with my foot out the window I started to add "your mom" to certain parts of the song:
- "We didn't start the fire! It was always burning since your mom's been turning..."
- "Eisenhower, vaccine, your mom's got a new queen..."
- "Einstein, James Dean, your mom's got a winning team..."
- "Chubby Checker, Psycho, Your Mom's in the Congooooo..."
I know. Strange.
As I was driving on Friday there was a severe thunder and lightening storm, as many of you may recall. Rain was pouring down intermittently and the lightening was making the sky all ablaze. I merged onto Rt. 3 from the Expressway and what comes right in front of me but a Subaru with a bike strapped onto the top of the car. In a lightening storm. I know people say that being in your car is the safest place to be, but do you really want to tempt the lightening and put an aluminum bike on your car??
I called LK to tell her of my fate and she said, matter-of-factly, "You should get in the other lane."
I thought about this for a second and then glanced over to the right hand lane which wasn't moving at all. At least my "death lane" was rolling at a decent clip. I told her, "Yeah. OK." and then hung up. I stayed in the left hand lane behind the Subaru from New Hampshire and the only solace I could offer myself was that, "At least I wasn't wearing an under wire bra." I actually wasn't wearing a bra at all for that matter.
Now, as I'm tooling along in the left hand lane, I come up on someone who is going super slow. Since the driver in front of me clearly can't read the speed limit, I pass them. Well....first I flashed my brights on them them and they didn't move. So THEN I passed them. And when I eventually got in front of their slow ass, the driver flipped me off. Now what is that all about?! You're the one going 9 miles an hour! How are you going to get mad at me?
What is that?! Repressed road rage? Clearly the bitch in the 2007 BMW 7 Series had anger issues. She tailed me and then I flipped her and her teenaged daughter off. I mean come on! If you're driving a 7 Series you should be hauling ass! That's a sweet car. Show me what it's made of!
(who am I?!)
One thing that makes me quasi nervous about driving in traffic is when you're again, stopped dead, and people throw cigarette butts out the window. You slowly inch along and next thing you know you're parked right on top of that still lit cigarette. I feel nervous when that happens because what if the cigarette comes in contact with some rogue oil? Or some other sort of flammable substance? It's Lisa Toast!!!
Also while in traffic, I observed about seven HUMMERs on the road. In varying colors. From that nasty yellow color, to black, to red. I just have one question to pose to the drivers of Hummers: Do you get to the desert a lot? Because, in my opinion, unless you are traversing the sands of Iraq or the deserts of Kuwait, there is no reason why you need to be driving that. And by your Massachusetts license plate, I can see that your monstrosity of a vehicle probably doesn't leave the Bay State all that much. Not with gas prices sky rocketing at $3.09 a gallon for regular.
In closing I would just like to say that the fact that you drive a hummer does not mean that all women think your penis is big. It also doesn't mean that we think you are a.) powerful or b.) important. Actually the fact that you drive a Hummer probably makes us think that you're a self-effacing ass clown who probably has a small wang and only drives it because you work at the dealership.
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