that guy in traffic

We’ve all seen them. It’s not always a guy. It’s always someone more important than everyone else, with places to be that are so important just the mere idea of them would make your poor plebeian brain explode. Why else would they attempt to speed around a traffic jam when clearly molasses is the safest speed to be travelling? How else could you explain the extreme tailgating that occurs when you’re moving at exactly the speed limit surrounded by seven lanes of open space for them to just go around? How the fuck else do you try to justify that guy that zigzags in and out of traffic like a stock car racer on cocaine, just to sit next to you at the next red light?

you mad?

Listen, that guy always has somewhere to be and you’re likely always going to be in the way. Unless you ARE that guy and you don’t realize it. I’ve learned to just keep a sharp eye out and make every effort to never venture near them.

On my commute to/from work, there is one traffic light that is a particular pain in the ass to get through on the first (or even third) cycle during rush hour. As with most lights that have traffic back up past the point where the left turn lane begins, you’re going to have people waiting impatiently in that left through-lane wishing they could just get like two more feet of space to slide into that turn lane and maybe make the light.

So no shit there I was, sitting in the left through-lane, waiting for the light to change. Out of nowhere, an old-ass Suburban that was possibly more rust than functioning parts came barreling past me…on my left…on the median. This bro was four-wheeling his way to victory. I sat there in mild amazement. Look at him go. He’s just goin’ for it. He’s gonna lose what suspension he has left…man this will be awkward if he doesn’t make it.

That crazy bastard made the green light and I found myself silently cheering for him. Way to go, you rule-breaking psycho. You threw caution to wind and set forth with reckless abandon on a quest that likely could have ended in embarrassment. And through sheer perseverance (the vehicle itself surely didn’t contribute to this victory) you managed to shave like two minutes off your morning drive.

way to go

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