Thursday, February 09, 2006

drive slow, homie.

While I was on the expressway this morning, I saw two cars involved in a small fender bender. Both drivers, jumped out of their vehicles (with arms flailing) seemingly ready to engage in their own version of the Royal Rumble (some old Mortal Kombat). It was a potentially volatile situation (damn near all are) but hell, you know me, I laughed my ass off. Just glad it wasn’t me – ‘cuz nowadays it seems like people are given their licenses when they send in $5 and three UPC symbols to the DMV.

Imagine this scene: there you are, driving on your way to work. Everything is going wrong. It's Monday. You had to get up at 6 AM (even the roosters are still in the barn, spooning with the chickens) so you’re exhausted and to top it off, you're running late (the notorious CP TIME). You turn on the radio to hear the same 5 songs back-to-back-to-back-to-back-to-back on every COTDAM station you turn to… thus the irritation begins. You begin mumble to yourself about how terrible morning rush-hour traffic is and daydream about what you’d do if you won the lottery.

You look in your rear-view and see some inbred jack-ass from Hollattahootchie, USA riding your tail like an inmate on some “new meat” that just came into the pen. You start to think about hitting the brakes so you can get paid (until you realize that dude might not have insurance). You’re really upset now, even more pissed because you were right in the middle of the part in your fantasy where you drove away in the new S-Class with some big-booty model in the passenger seat, tryna get some tongue action going… um, sorry, got a little worked up, I’m digressing … so you speed up, trying to make up some time to get to work before they replace you with Boney-T from the mailroom.

All of sudden, from the left lane, without warning, some jerk in a lime-green hatchback cuts you off (while eating an Egg McMuffin, programming his iPod and text-messaging his mom for more fruit cups). You think “this fool done lost his mind….” and the arm goes out, the fist tightens and extended, while shaking rapidly. You start to hit him with more beeps than a pager. (I will hunt you down and cut you off RIGHT BACK!!! BEEP BEEP BEEP!!!! And that ain’t my horn, that’s my mouth yelling out obscenities… “What, Mother BEEP! BEEP YOU – Eat a BEEP - Mother BEEEEP!!”)

Wait a minute – something unexpected happens. This mother-BEEP waves! (You know -- the acknowledgment of "hey, I cut you off, but thanks for letting me in) All of a sudden, everything's acceptable. You actually start thinking, that the dude was considerate (well, he did have enough courtesy to acknowledge what he did thus you start to feel guilty for thinking terrible things about his mother and goats).

What the hell is wrong with you? Point is, this person cut you off and got away with it. Just think if every confrontation was solved as easily.

Yeah, she boned my man, but she waved afterwards, so it's cool.

He jumped me after school but he waved and told me he didn’t really mean to whip my ass.

Now you know that ish wouldn’t happen… so how in the hell does a wave smooth things over? (If in the off-hand you believe that ish WOULD work, try doing it the next time the police are pulling you over – let me know how that one goes…)

It’s time to reflect, folks. Think about the serenity you feel while in your car, how peaceful you anticipate your short (or long) trip to be, and the betrayal you feel when someone dares to interrupt your personal time. It’s like you feel molested (nobody is allowed in that special place). Remember the next time someone cuts you off and waves, give them the thing that gift that shows them how you truly feel: the finger.

That’s my angry outburst for today… I’m gone like free lunches in middle school… holla at y’all maƱana…
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