What would you say to traffic if you had the chance to catch it out on the street alone and vulnerable? Find out what one irate driver had to say…
It’s time we had a little chat. I can’t remember the last time I heard of someone sitting down to tell you exactly how much bullsh*t you’re worth. You are evil and rude and vindictive and I personally don’t like it.
As I sat in my car, singing out of tune at the top of my voice to that song I hate so much, but can’t help singing because I’ve heard it a dozen times (with all the cars on the road being at a complete stand still and all), I had time to think of what I’d say to you if I ever caught your ass alone on the street — off duty.
You’d better be lucky I can’t physically put my hands on you, because if I could the convo would go something like this; I’d start off by grabbing you by the collar and looking you dead in the eye, in fact, I’d look in both your eyes with only one of mine, kind of like a pirate [for the intimidation effect] and say:
“Damn you! Damn you, Traffic, for the loud horns and the inconsiderate school kids sticking out their tongues and giving me the middle finger as they scurry back and forth in front of my car. Where’s a safety patrol when you need one? Damn you for making me miss my doctor’s appointments, staff meetings and one hour sales. Curses for making me miss happy hour by 15 minutes! I blame unneeded construction on you. I blame potholes on you. I blame broken traffic signals, slow walking old people and suicidal stray cats all on you. It’s your fault, Traffic. Do you hear me???”
At this point you’d probably give me a blank stare, kind of like you’re doing now, with an irritating smirk on your face, followed by a weak laugh — almost as if to ask, “What are you going to do about it?” Oh, but I’ll tell you what I’d do about it. I’d tie you down with duct tape and toss your ass in the middle of some train tracks with two speeding steam locomotives coming at you from both directions. I’m not sure if I’d wait for the collision or not, but I am pretty positive that I’d find great pleasure in your panic. The same panic that I feel as I dash through my office doors, hoping my supervisor doesn’t catch me; the same panic that I feel as I try to sneak into the church sanctuary without being called out by the minister; the very same panic I feel when I’m late picking up the kids from day-care, and the day-care teacher has a hot date…the first one in like, forever!
You see, Traffic, if we could only compromise a little bit, then I wouldn’t have to track you down like a hunter during duck-hunting season. All you need to do is fix it so that all the green lights remain green until I’ve passed. Oh, and maybe keep a giant umbrella over my car when it rains. Because you know as well as I do that people in the city can’t drive in the rain…or the snow…or at night…or…well you get my point.
So if you don’t want your ass beat, then I suggest you rethink your routine and give it a rest, already. Stick your nose in the business of morning and evening mayhem only when I’m nowhere to be found on the streets.
Quote of the week: “I don’t like morning people. Or mornings. Or people.”