Driving brings out the worst in me. I wonder why. I should be grateful that driving a car saves so much time. Traveling by foot would take far too long, as would riding a donkey with amazing suspension or even a horse carriage at full throttle. “Woah there, Nelly!” That’s a horse name right? Or are elephants called Nelly, or expired rappers? Vanilla Ice gives great piggy back rides.
Driving is a privilege we’ve become far too well accustomed to. We’re in such a rush hour after hour. As soon as we get behind the wheel everyone else is behind enemy white lines. They’re simply in the way. And we’re so high and mighty in our car armor. But whose going to come and get you, the ever so conveniently timed modern day slow coaches, the peripherally challenged, the distracted texters, the ever-present four wheel drives maneuvered by tanned crustaceans with posh children cargo, a plate full of P’s, the tradie with the wandering eye at the red light, the cab with his own road rules? Who cares?
We beep, we curse and we gesture. We’re so speedy to hurl abuse. Well, I’d like to be the first to say, “Tremendous u-turn! Excellent indicating! Here’s a six pack for letting me in! High five on the first time reverse park!” But even if I did yell these compliments out I would unintentionally come across as a sarcastic wench. Oh well, road rage against the machine.
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