For ten years I commuted up and down the Cajon Pass, an hour each way. Now I only commute every Tuesday, when I go to a kindergarten class in Moreno Valley to help out, and I see stuff that reminds me of the commute. Like now. I’m in the car, coffeed up, jabbering into my recorder (a very cool device that uploads to my computer). Anyway we’re all waiting in line because the light on this rural highway is red, and just as it turns green a guy comes FLYING past us in the right-turn-only lane. He blasts through the intersection to the head of the line, cuts left and races on. The thing that gets me is, you KNOW he thinks he’s a genius, but the real reason he’s not dead is because somebody had the brains to let him in.
Nah, too many words. More like: “Not my problem.”
Amen, sister. I wonder if he actually killed someone in his carelessness, he would say “Well, I was late to work. Can you blame me?”