The Highway is the Theater of Our Petty Daily Dramas
Reckless Drivers are the Reason You Can’t Afford a Nicer Car
I am a painfully slow driver.
Maybe it is the hazards of a career in insurance; I have seen too much. Now, I imagine bad things too much.
I don’t know if it is fair to blame it all on my career path. I do have, after all, an overactive mind and a fearful mom.
So when I’m out driving, I stay in the slow lane, barely hitting the speed limit of the area. If anyone in the car wants to talk to me, I’m able to answer them while simultaneously hitting the brakes for the knucklehead swerving into my lane.
I’m ready for the hazards of the road, which many times include road rage.
My sister, who, when she was cut off in traffic by someone, bravely and unapologetically brandished a middle finger at her trespassers.
One day, my stepdad pulled her aside and explained to her the unknown harms of flipping someone and how it could trigger and make them explode.
It was sound advice, especially for my sister, who lives in Texas, where people don’t take kindly to birds flipping at them in the road, especially not brown birds, even if they are juicier, and such brown birds are in a giant truck like…
