The Road to Hell-ville

Cathy called me on her way to work. We knew Interstate 4 was backed up around John Young Parkway. She called to tell me that the backup stretched all the way up past her exit to 436! I had to drive 14 miles out of my way. It took almost 1 hour to get to work.

The part that makes me sad and angry is that there was this car in front of me not paying any attention whatsoever to the road. I could tell she was fiddling with her hair or talking to her kid or chatting on the cell phone. So, every stop we had, she’d delay until someone honked their horns to tell her that “Yes, lady, the Gah Damned light had indeed changed.” Which the delay would mean we wouldn’t make the next green light, of course. And every right turn we could take, she missed the opportunity of a gap between cars because something else inside of her damn car was distracting her from driving. And I drove behind her for miles and miles just fuming and trying to find a way out of it.

So, I finally got fed up and went to whip around her. I thought I had a clear shot. Instead, I almost got myself killed. By a big black monolith of a monster fucking truck who was happily whizzing by at a gazillion miles an hour with no impediments whatsoever…The fucking truck driver was probably whistling and thinking that he could easily run over anything that got in his way. And in fact, he could.

It’s like Fate is telling me that if I try to escape the injustice that is going 7 miles an hour in front of me, blocking my road to Happiness – if I try to find a way around it - I am going to be smashed to death by a big fucking monster truck!

I half expected the truck to have a Grim Reaper painted on its side or a bumper sticker that says “BWAHAHAHA – Your Karma Sucks!!!” Or both.