Oct. 11th, 2006

wwcitizen: (Sitting On A Bench - wanna chat?)
I've decided that I don't like creepy drivers on the highway. That's it. Done.

Yesterday on the way home, I was behind a woman in a very old looking, white and rusting Chevy Nova. She was in the far left lane in front of me driving easily 5-10 miles slower than everybody else, AND there were about 10 car lengths between her and the next car in front of her (I have this minor pet peeve that I don't like being behind other drivers who are closer than 4-5 car lengths in front of me. If I see an opportunity to get around a person very close in front of me, I will take it). Problem was, there was a driver next to me going her speed as well.

FINALLY, a spot opened next to her in front of the guy next to me equaling about 3 car lengths. She put on her blinker and stayed in front of me. In my lane. There in front of me. Not moving, but her blinker was on. ARRRRRGH!

After about an excruciating 45 seconds or so (I am truly a pretty patient person. Really, I am!) and a few superlatives, I was able to ooch around in front of the guy to my right. I sped up enough to pass this white, rusty Chevy Nova, but not too fast to be spotted by a cop on the roadside.

The woman driving had brown hair and it looked like she'd had a long day at work. Thing was, her hands were on the steering wheel and the top of the steering wheel was about an inch higher than the top of her head!! So, she could almost do pull-ups whilst a-driving around the community. Unfortunately, she was on the highway and not "in a community" at the moment I saw her in her car. As I passed by slowly (and I was fully intent on giving her a "Thanks!" thumbs-up for giving me a little internal rage), she turned her head slowly as if she were wearing a very stiff neck brace, her deeply frowning mouth askew as to imply impending drool. Her eyes were a little wild, but also oddly weary from seeing more than her life desired or had anticipated. The whole scene in her car turned my rage into a creepy feeling. One that I really wanted to escape.

I gazed into her car shaking my head, noticed the creepy scene, and sped up more quickly. That picture remained branded into my mind, well, until today during this posting. And I am only writing this whole thing in the hopes that by doing so, the memory will not be as poignant, creepy, or long-lived.

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Stephen Lambeth

May 2017

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