I was
reading an article by a writer the other
night and she was talking about how difficult
it is at times to think of something to write
about. Since I'm having that same problem
these days...even, as she said, with so many
important things to speak about...I'm going
to take her advice. She said when it got
particularly tough for her she'd either turn
on an all-news TV station and sooner than
later she'd hear something innane or just
plain stupid...and presto, a topic would be
there. Her other device to generate ideas
was to take a ride around town and watch all
the topics emerge before her eyes. Quite
good advice...I think. So...
I'm going to once again "ramble" a bit,
but with a slight variation on her theme.
I've been applying for jobs lately and a
number of issues keep rising. So I'll talk
about some of them...but first, on the way
home today from dropping off an application,
I saw a car with a bumper sticker on it. The
sticker said "I love(a heart) safe drivers."
I first noticed this sticker after watching
this car weave not once but twice between the
regular lane and the left-turn lane!! It was
a woman driving (nothing implied by
that...please!) and she clearly didn't know
which way to go. Ok, but she was going very
slow...had no turn signals going, and was
plainly oblivious to anyone else around.
When I saw her sticker and started to laugh
out loud. But that was just the
beginning.
She headed up a long ramp with a curve to
the right. She moved oh so slowly...taking
the curve on its outside (thereby providing
more wear and tear on her tires and making
the turn less stable). After "safely"
negotiating the curve she prepared to enter
the 55 MPH freeway. Slowness was the name of
the game for her. Did I see a "safe" left
turn signal come on to indicate her
intentions? Yeah, right! None at all. Did
I see her safely glance in her side mirror to
watch for traffic? No. Did she speed up so
she could better merge with the flow of
traffic after eventually glancing in the
mirror? No. Did she even glance in her
rearview mirror to see if anyone was behind
her...or to check the flow of traffic? You
gotta be kidding!. No, what she did was lift
her entire body up and turned half way around
in her seat!!! It happened so quickly I
thought she had been ejected or something.
At this point I was between tears and
laughter. I had checked the traffic flow and
thankfully it wasn't heavy. After almost
doing the twist in her car, did she speed up
and move over into a proper lane? No, she
just kept going in the ramp lane...actually
moving more and more to the right (i.e.
farther away from the freeway lane she wanted
to go into!!). I had a decision to make.
Should I speed up and aim out into the far
left freeway lane...thus being poised to pass
her? Or should I follow her into the first
lane (if she was ever going to get there) and
kinda shield her from any cars coming up
fast? In spite of the flow of tears
streaming down my face from laughter at this
point, I could have selected the first.
However, I felt a peculiar obligation to
stick with this "safe" driver who just loves
safe drivers. So, just before the ramp lane
evaporated, she finally moved...(again, ever
so slowly...what traffic flow, eh?) into the
first freeway lane. Did I see her recheck
the flow? Come, on!! No, she just
"went...damn it" and I followed (after
checking, of course, to see if the coast was
clear...it was). By now my tears had dried
and my laughter subsided. I glanced at my
clock to see if the hour it seemed had
elapsed since I first met this safe driver
had actually passed. Although I wasn't in
any particular hurry, I had had enough. I
did all the "safe" things and moved over to
pass her. As I did I glanced at her...she
had settled in her seat and seemingly
couldn't see over the steering wheel. She
wasn't particularly old looking...no gray
hair or any tell-tale sign of senility...just
blithely oblivious of anything except her own
reality. I speeded all the way up to 55 or
so and felt like a rocket blasting by
her.
As I signalled my switch to her lane, I
glanced back at her and witnessed her looking
directly to her right...for at least 20
seconds or even a bit longer. I shook my
head and stomped on the gas to a shocking 65
MPH...just to get out of her way. As I
slowed down I kept thinking...its no wonder
she loves safe drivers...she NEEDS them to
keep from killing herself...because she
ISN'T one.
Well, after reliving this experience by writing about it...I don't feel very "serious" anymore. Wonder why? So, I'll save the serious stuff for the next commentary...one which will be devoted entirely to that thrilling experience...looking for a job (and the things that come to mind when doing so). Until then, watch out for those safe drivers, they may need you.
