You’re driving in rush hour traffic when the inevitable strikes:
You have to change lanes.
You’re stuck behind a minivan who’s competing for the honor of being the world’s slowest driver. And for the briefest of moments, you could almost call it an instant, you think about killing yourself.
You slap yourself out of it and decide to deal with this head-on.
Your hand flicks down on the turn signal, and your eyes find the mirror.
But then, something crazy happens…
It’s downright, damn-right unexpected.
Instead of announcing to the world, “Hey, slow down, I’d like to move over,” your turn signal behaves as if it came from an opposite reality. It screams, “Speed on up.”
And damnit, does it ever work.
Driving about 20 feet behind you in the passing lane is a moron, the kind with their nose down in their phone. The half-baked meme their coworker sent them is currently taking precedence over driving. And apparently, you have to deal with it.
So he says.
And like the total sap you are, you think, “Oh gee, I can merge; there’s room.“
But your turn signal has power.
The instant that baby goes up, the moron goes full sleeper agent.
He vibrates violently against his seat belt, and his mouth foams. His eyes, once blue, goes full swirly as he presses the pedal through the floor. And a giant thought bubble appears over his car:
“I’ll be damned if anyone dares to pass me on THIS highway!”
Then magic happens…
He goes full Houdini and appears in the side view mirror right before passing you by.
Where was this moron a few seconds ago?
You shake it off and chalk it up to traffic, but then, something happens.
Over your shoulder, car after car, mile after mile, speeds up as if it was the end of the world.
They’re driving so fast that it makes you wonder if you should be driving fast too. This just don’t add up. Surely there must be a Godzilla-like creature causing chaos.
And now that you started thinking, you start to panic.
So you press the hammer down, until you feel the floor when something stops you…
You look up from the mirror and your bumping bumpers with that fucking minivan.
The stupid stick-figure family bumper sticker is smiling at you oblivious to what just happened.
The minivan’s brakes flash red.
Your diet coke spills all over your pants.
Welcome to rush hour.
Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think. What’s your favorite part of rush hour.