Friday, May 18, 2018

Road Rage

I drove to Minneapolis and back today.  And lived to tell about it.  I absolutely, positively, without doubt, HATE driving in, around, near, or to the metropolitan area.  I would rather...

  ....trim my nose hairs with lit matches....

  ....listen to country music....

  ....eat slugs soaked in tabasco sauce....

  ....walk barefoot through the depths of Hell....

  ....go shoe shopping....

  ....wear sandpaper underwear....

....than drive in the Twin Cities.  Heck, I hate driving in city traffic so bad I'd even rather go to the dentist than head south to that cesspool of highway mayhem.

There are two speeds in city traffic:  way too fast and way too slow.  There are two kinds of drivers in city traffic:  me and idiots.  There are usually two lanes available:  the fast lane and the one I'm in.  There are almost always two choices of when to exit:  the correct choice and the choice I make.

I change lanes to the left only to discover my exit is on the right andthereitwas.  I successfully navigate into a lane with faster moving traffic only to have the entire line come to a screeching halt while the 52 cars that were behind me in my original lane go by.  The morning trip flows well enough to get me to my destination a full 45 minutes early.  The exact same route coming home takes nearly an hour longer than it did eight hours earlier.

I could continue.....haven't even touched on the awful drivers who clearly have mental deficits when it comes to understanding merges (I'm talkin' to you, black pickup guy towing a roofing trailer who was warned THREE TIMES that the right lane was ending!!) or the Murphy's law of driver in low car getting stuck behind driver in, well, I'm not sure what the 32-wheeled rig was built for, but the two-ton grappling hook that hung out its back and draped over the hood of my car looked deadly.  Yes, I could continue, but I can't.  The stress of today's journey has taken its toll; my nerves are shot, my eyes glazed, my knuckles a permanent shade of white.  I'm going to crawl into my bed, curl into the fetal position, and dream a little dream of terror on the highways.

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