What the fuck? Why does that guy think he's so special? I had the longest day ever driving from one place to the other sitting in meetings and picking ever-so-slightly at a light lunch so as not to appear a gluttonous pig over every one of the offerings on the table. I wanted it all bored and starving and so uncomfortably aware of how trim and cute each of those fashionista tarts was. I nibbled on greens like a hamster to fit in. At least if they thought I was fat they'd think I was working on it. Now I'm hangry and sitting in traffic and I need to pee and I am yelling at strangers who are probably as frustrated as I am. I wonder where they are all coming from and if they ate lunch. We're lined up one behind the other like the matchbox cars in an autistic toddler's playroom. Nowhere to go and no opportunity to change our minds. We are just stuck. I try not to feel bad for myself and instead worry about the people up ahead who may be involved in a crash that is causing this standstill traffic jam. But it's hard. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I really have to pee! And then as if more important than the rest of us as though we left this red carpet lane open for him this asshole in a Mustang pulls out from the bumper to bumper traffic and helps himself to the shoulder like it's a freeway there just for special people like him. I know. I'm not going to lie we have all thought about it. Could I make it around these cars? Can I get over to that lane just so I can get to the off ramp? I swear I'm not going to drive through it I just need to make it to the exit. But I don't do it. Maybe because I know it's illegal. Maybe because I recognize the need for emergency vehicles to get through. Maybe just because I'm not an asshole. At least I don't think I am. I'm crazy tired and hungry and in desperate need of the humming vibration of the road to trick my bladder into submission. Shaking my legs and bouncing in my seat is not working. I have to find the perfect song on my iPod one that I know all the lyrics from so I can sing because if I sing I'll forget I have to go to the bathroom. And then in true irony or maybe not true irony certainly not literal irony the music played.... damn this traffic jam!
Thursday, April 27, 2017
Traffic Jam
Response to Prompt #22: Rants and Riffs
What the fuck? Why does that guy think he's so special? I had the longest day ever driving from one place to the other sitting in meetings and picking ever-so-slightly at a light lunch so as not to appear a gluttonous pig over every one of the offerings on the table. I wanted it all bored and starving and so uncomfortably aware of how trim and cute each of those fashionista tarts was. I nibbled on greens like a hamster to fit in. At least if they thought I was fat they'd think I was working on it. Now I'm hangry and sitting in traffic and I need to pee and I am yelling at strangers who are probably as frustrated as I am. I wonder where they are all coming from and if they ate lunch. We're lined up one behind the other like the matchbox cars in an autistic toddler's playroom. Nowhere to go and no opportunity to change our minds. We are just stuck. I try not to feel bad for myself and instead worry about the people up ahead who may be involved in a crash that is causing this standstill traffic jam. But it's hard. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I really have to pee! And then as if more important than the rest of us as though we left this red carpet lane open for him this asshole in a Mustang pulls out from the bumper to bumper traffic and helps himself to the shoulder like it's a freeway there just for special people like him. I know. I'm not going to lie we have all thought about it. Could I make it around these cars? Can I get over to that lane just so I can get to the off ramp? I swear I'm not going to drive through it I just need to make it to the exit. But I don't do it. Maybe because I know it's illegal. Maybe because I recognize the need for emergency vehicles to get through. Maybe just because I'm not an asshole. At least I don't think I am. I'm crazy tired and hungry and in desperate need of the humming vibration of the road to trick my bladder into submission. Shaking my legs and bouncing in my seat is not working. I have to find the perfect song on my iPod one that I know all the lyrics from so I can sing because if I sing I'll forget I have to go to the bathroom. And then in true irony or maybe not true irony certainly not literal irony the music played.... damn this traffic jam!
What the fuck? Why does that guy think he's so special? I had the longest day ever driving from one place to the other sitting in meetings and picking ever-so-slightly at a light lunch so as not to appear a gluttonous pig over every one of the offerings on the table. I wanted it all bored and starving and so uncomfortably aware of how trim and cute each of those fashionista tarts was. I nibbled on greens like a hamster to fit in. At least if they thought I was fat they'd think I was working on it. Now I'm hangry and sitting in traffic and I need to pee and I am yelling at strangers who are probably as frustrated as I am. I wonder where they are all coming from and if they ate lunch. We're lined up one behind the other like the matchbox cars in an autistic toddler's playroom. Nowhere to go and no opportunity to change our minds. We are just stuck. I try not to feel bad for myself and instead worry about the people up ahead who may be involved in a crash that is causing this standstill traffic jam. But it's hard. I'm tired and I'm hungry and I really have to pee! And then as if more important than the rest of us as though we left this red carpet lane open for him this asshole in a Mustang pulls out from the bumper to bumper traffic and helps himself to the shoulder like it's a freeway there just for special people like him. I know. I'm not going to lie we have all thought about it. Could I make it around these cars? Can I get over to that lane just so I can get to the off ramp? I swear I'm not going to drive through it I just need to make it to the exit. But I don't do it. Maybe because I know it's illegal. Maybe because I recognize the need for emergency vehicles to get through. Maybe just because I'm not an asshole. At least I don't think I am. I'm crazy tired and hungry and in desperate need of the humming vibration of the road to trick my bladder into submission. Shaking my legs and bouncing in my seat is not working. I have to find the perfect song on my iPod one that I know all the lyrics from so I can sing because if I sing I'll forget I have to go to the bathroom. And then in true irony or maybe not true irony certainly not literal irony the music played.... damn this traffic jam!
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