Why is everyone in such a goddamn hurry all the time? Is anyone ever where they actually want to be? Judging by the behavior of most drivers on the road, you’d think the next red light was the seventh sign of the apocalypse. Is it really that painful to sit back for a minute and feel the cool Spring breeze zip through your car? Maybe sing along with the chorus to American Pie?
Instead, 90% of the Bro Dudes I encounter in the city are revving their engines and creeping up to the line like they’re Shirley Muldowney. That’s right, I totally threw a drag racing reference at you. You can spot these guys right away…aviator sunglasses, hat on backwards, usually driving a Mustang or some beat up Trans Am. The temptation is to scorch these dudes off the line in your 2002 beige Pontiac Grand Prix SE with the baby car seat in the back, just to teach them a lesson. Or maybe it’s just to hope and pray that the local Smokey has received your telepathic message that the Bandit is running amok downtown, so he can write him a speeding ticket. But don’t waste your energy, friends. Take the high road.
After all, you’ll be seeing them at the next red light anyway.
