Dear Guy Causing All The Traffic In Sacramento:
First off, let me apologize for calling you a guy. I have no idea if you are a guy or not -- I never saw your face.
What I did see was your truck. Your white truck, you know, the one that looks like all the other white trucks on the road.
I followed you down Highway 99 one afternoon. The traffic was heavy in all the usual places. Brakelights were illuminated as far as the eye could see. It wasn't quite bumper to bumper, but it was close. When we passed Florin Road, I expected the congestion to ease, like it normally does.
"There must be an accident," I mused as we continued to creep along. I couldn't see around your big truck but I trusted that you were hitting your brakes so frequently because you could see the traffic stopped for miles ahead.
It didn't occur to me to pass you because I figured with all that traffic up there, what's the point?
When I finally decided to go around you to see for myself what the hold-up was, I was surprised to find that you were the traffic. You were following the car in front of you too closely (for what reason I can't imagine -- just go around him!) and slamming on your brakes the instant before you plowed into his back fender. Speed up, get too close, SLAM ON BRAKES, speed up, get too close, SLAM ON BRAKES. Repeat 200 times. Ahead of your bumper-buddy, there were no cars. Not for miles.
You fooled me, I admit. You also fooled the 7 miles of patient drivers behind you who thought, "There must be bad traffic up there. Look at those brakelights."
Bad traffic, no. One bad driver, yes.
Please, sir (or ma'am) don't come around here no more. Highway 99 traffic stinks enough already without you.
Regards,
Andrea
2 comments:
Is that where Chet is?? I haven't been able to find him for the last few days- he must have taken the big white truck and headed to Hwy. 99!
Reminds me of the trip we took to Utah when Dante was just a baby. It was a holiday weekend (Memorial Day?) and the traffic was really bad. Chet was doing that thing, but it was accompanied by almost non-stop bursts of frustration. Loud frustration.
Speed up, slam on brakes. "OH COME ON!!! GO ALREADY!! WHAT'S THE HOLD UP?" Speed up, slam on brakes. "GREAT! WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING? GEEEEEEEEEZ!"
I though he'd give up after a while and resign to the fact that traffic was bad, but no. He was able to keep it up for over two hours -- all the way to Reno.
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