Road Kill

July 10, 2000

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   by ZenShadow

It's Monday.

I've just flown back in the previous night from Dallas where I was attending a wedding, and I'm running on fumes (in terms of my mind, not my vehicle).

I'm on the US-101 doing about 65 MPH in the carpool lane (that's our equivalent of the HOV lane for all you Texans out there). Traffic in my lane stops.

Now, this is not unusual; the 101 is more like a parking lot than a freeway at times, and this is a well-known fact. I've gotten used to it after dealing with this freeway almost as long as I've been alive. I look over, spot a clear lane, hit my turn signal (wouldn't it be nice if more people used those? PFFT!), and start creeping over...

...and in my mirror, about six cars back, I see this motorbike. He's moving right up the middle, where I'm about to cross, doing about 20 MPH. Traffic is stopped, he's riding the middle, which is legal (up to like 5 MPH over speed of traffic or something) in California.

But let's examine this situation for a moment.

He's on his bike. He's driving up the middle of traffic, clearly speeding, and he looks up from looking at his reflection in his new bike, and sees this BIG BLUE FIREBIRD with a BIG RED TURN SIGNAL trying to change lanes. What does he do?

This reminds me of a bad Keanu Reeves movie. "WHAT DO YOU DO?! WHAT DO YOU DO?!"

Well, this particular poor excuse for a human being decides to ignore me and keep on going right up the center of traffic. He's damn lucky I saw him, or he'd be smeared all over the freeway.

Of course I honk at him; someone's gotta tell these people where to stick it. So what does he do? HE GIVES ME THE BIRD, AS IF IT'S MY FAULT!

To all you biker folks that think you're special, I got news for ya. I drive a 2500 pound beast. If I hit your 200 pound crotch rocket, who the hell do YOU think is gonna win? Get a life, guys. Learn that you aren't invincible. If it helps, envision yourself flying through the air at 20 MPH toward the bumper of some dude's car in the middle of a busy freeway.

Besides, next time I might not have the luxury of seeing you coming. If that happens, it's your own damn fault, and I'll have very little sympathy for you. PFFFT!


Published: July 10, 2000
Editor: stacy

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