People on the Highway

Embarrassing confession time; I clicked a Buzzfeed click bait link.  The title of the article was along the line of “What Annoys You the Most Based on Your Sign.”  Everything about it was dumb, but I was bored on the internet and that is basically why Buzzfeed exists.  I clicked the link, tapped Taurus and went, “huh, not bad.”

“You are annoyed by bad drivers,” the funny gif said.  I write these articles every week.  I have a book full of stories of interactions with bad drivers available for the low, low price of 99 cents. I had to admit, the site’s gross generalization based on interpretations of a rather amusing mythology were pretty spot on.

And that lead’s to today’s story.  Tailed by some shlub on a side street with clearly posted 40 miles per hour speed limit signs, but he pushed us to 50; I was quite displeased with the driving decisions this guy made.  Bad drivers get meaner stories (and a double digit salute, if you know what I mean).

Today’s Tale: Should Have Gone With the Good Stuff

On a side street with towering oaks blocking the sun, the soundtrack of Phineas and Ferb’s Star Wars special plays through the speakers to amuse the children in the back seat.  I miss playing Coheed and Cambria loudly with the windows down, but that’s another tale altogether.  Racing up behind me is a Ford F250, a behemoth in silver, hell bent on making us both move well above the speed limit.

The guy was born with a chip on his shoulder.  Sunglasses from the 80s, balding in all the wrong spots, a sleeveless tee that I am fairly certain says “No Fear” over an Ed Hardy pattern; he looks like the exact opposite of a person I want to know.  As he gets right on my bumper I am 95% certain there is a pair of “truck nuts” hanging from the hitch of the vehicle.

There’s not much going on in this part of town.  It was a sleepy Sunday evening and if you live here, there’s really no rush to anything.  Why is this guy in such a hurry that he would endanger a family of strangers?  My first assumption was that he was just a self-centered bit of used toilet paper incapable of compassion or considerations beyond Maslow’s first tier.

But I saw something in his shaded eyes, perhaps it was the tilted eyebrows or his leaning into the steering wheel.  He was consumed with fear.  Where ever he needed to be, he had to be there quickly or something awful was going to happen.

It was approaching dinner time, if we had been able to see the sun on this road it would have hung just above the mountains to our west.  The driver was coming back from a long day of lonely fishing, he spends most of his time alone on account of being an entirely disagreeable person.

He took a quick break for lunch earlier.  He does not know how to cook for himself, so he went to the nearest provider of pre-made food.  As luck would have it, near the lake is a local bait-n-tackle place.  It has a rustic log-cabin like exterior, on display outside are a number of reels and fly-fishing waders for customers to handle and it is staffed by a group of men in their 50s who say, “yup” for entire conversations.  It is heaven on earth for our driver.

He stepped inside and was instantly overcome with what he was pretty sure most people called “emotions” of happiness.  The gray haired man at the counter welcomed him and asked “what can I do ya fer?”

“I’m looking for something to eat.  Outside smelled pretty nice,” the driver said.

“You’ve come to the right spot, friend.  Freshest fish in town right here.  You want to try something fun?  Our chef is making up some of that fancy sushi stuff today,” the counter clerk said.  He waved the driver over to the kitchen area.

“Sushi, eh? Why not,” the driver said.

“Just a buck a roll too!” The clerk said.

“Well, sign me up for ten!” The driver said, slapping the counter just before a plate was pushed in front of him.

If there is one rule in this world it should be never buy the cheap sushi.  Some things a stomach cannot handle.  Bargain bin salmon rolls, off-brand cream cheese and wholesale rice that is never prewashed are items that do not exit the body well.  The driver did not know of this rule.

He learned it well.  He is chasing me and my family off the road because his cheap sushi is coming back with a vengeance.

Eventually the road drops the double yellow line dividing the lanes and he zips by us.

The most disappointing part?  A set of “truck nuts” hang from the hitch.


Thanks for reading!  Drive safe!


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