So here is the question of the day. Who the hell are you and why do you do what you do? And no this is not aimed at my people or the old folks, we all understand those two particular short comings. this is aimed directly at the pretentious asshole driving his BMW in the fast lane at sixty miles an hour. Or the nice lady in the suburban holding a phone to the side of her head, who manages to speed up when you try to pass her, and slow down when you can't, even though she can't focus enough of her attention on the road to keep the six thousand pounds of rolling death that she is piloting in her own damn lane. Perhaps even the tight assed, hybrid driving, card carrying member of P.E.T.A. that seems bent on personally enforcing the speed limit.now before you get all anxious, and start screaming about how I am stereotyping you or your people, GET OVER YOURSELF! I didn't just pick these examples to hurt your poor fragile feelings, they are just the three knuckleheads that I encountered on my last commute. So if you are a pretentious ass, an oblivious bitch, or a self righteous nincompoop don't be upset, this is not a commentary of you and all your people, just the three I had to deal with.
So, now that we have the who, lets delve into the why. you are either :
A) unfamiliar with proper freeway etiquette.
B) multitasking, and, actually driving the vehicle you are sitting in is way down on your list of priorities. somewhere below applying make up, reading cosmo., changing the Avril Levine song on your radio, and of course chatting it up with your gay co-worker about how bad your man treats you.
C) so rich and pretentious, that you keep all of your employees cowering in fear, or clambering to plant their heads firmly between your cheeks. after so many years of ass kissing you might even have reached the logical conclusion that you are the only person on the road that matters, and everyone should cater to your particular "style" of driving, (while being suitably impressed with your awesome success as a human).
D) you and the other animal loving, tree hugging, self centered, holier-than-thou, despots, have all decided to save the environment by enforcing the speed limits that the police don't. yes you will save the planet by making people drive sixty thereby forcing their cars to run efficiently saving gasoline, reducing emissions, which lowers global warming. Hooray you, now if you could only remember what you did with that red paint, because that lady in the fur coat needs to be taught a lesson.
This brings us to our final option, and this one is my personal take on the whole situation.
E) You have come to the startling realization, (through years of intensive therapy) that you peaked in grade school. when the dirty old man that was your teacher made you the hall monitor in exchange for not telling anyone that he touched you in your naughty place. that was the last time you felt any real authority or control. now your life is a string of failed relationships with men (or women) that every day abuse you verbally or physically. you travel to and from a dead end job where you are unappreciated, looked over for advancement, and feel that everyone is out to get you. you boss is rude, callous, and never misses an opportunity to remind you where you stand in the grand scheme of things. you drink incessantly to try and forget the fact that not only is your entire life a complete and utter failure with no light at the end of the tunnel, you are bringing up your children in the same situation that you grew up in. that's right you have done very little, gone nowhere, and achieved nothing. if you disappeared no one would notice, but out on the freeways you are sixty mile an hour man/woman! yes here you are lord of the highway, enforcing YOUR will upon all the hapless souls that cross your path. yes for that one glorious hour you can exert some small measure of control over a dismal life that has been circling the drain for years, and you never miss an opportunity.
So I congratulate you sixty mile an hour man, on a game well played. you did indeed make me travel at sixty miles an hour (until the freeway hit six lanes), and I look forward to providing you with that one glimmer of satisfaction in the miserable swamp of sorrow that your pitiful life has become mired in, at some future date. until then, happy commuting,... you ass hat!
