My point was that by moving from Chicago to Northern Virginia and back to Chicago, Minneapolis traffic doesn't do a whole lot to scare me.I should have kept my fool mouth shut.
At the heart of the conversation was the fact that Joe and I are both pretty mellow guys at this stage in our lives - This stage in our lives, you snickering hyenas who knew me when... - but nothing beats a good traffic snarl to fuck up our good moods.
I used to love being the coolest guy on the roads on sweltering afternoons stuck on the Stevenson, cranking the radio with a big, dumb smile on my face as I smoked and did the cabbage patch, just to make the furious drivers around me more furious. Now, I just watch the clock, compose blog posts in my head, play with my iPod and try to ignore the new noises my truck develops daily.
With all of this and the recent conversation floating around my head tonight I sat and waited for traffic to clear as I inched my way home over the final four-mile stretch.
I paid attention to the roadway information signs, which told me there was an accident on the left-hand side ahead just before my exit. I waited and watched the suckers take the left lane, sure that I'd have the last laugh when their lane was blocked by a fiery wreck ahead.
The problem was those suckers vanished and I never saw their tail lights again.
Not only was there no accident ahead, the only thing causing the traffic snarl was some yahoo pulled over on the opposite side of the highway and drivers slowing to watch him talk to a cop, while nearly sideswiping merging traffic.
I guess for me, that's the best part of a good gapers block - by the time I realize what's going on and I'm ready to melt down and begin spewing my profanity-laced venom at my fellow motorists, it's already too late.
I think being stuck in traffic is the only problem in my life that actually fixes itself.
(Image from Transport2000.org.uk)
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