Driving, driving...

So here I am, actually trying to get somewhere this morning, and almost right out of the gate, I wind up behind a large semi truck that is on the local two-lane highway over the mountain instead of on the interstate a few miles to the north where it should be.

Now I used to drive trucks once, and I know exactly why this one's here. The driver is trying to avoid the scales on the interstate by taking this longer route over a curvy mountain road. I can tell that his truck is fat (overweight) just looking at it and watching it handle, and the smell of burning transmission fluid coming from it's overworked gearbox confirms it. Of course the damned thing is doing 20-30mph on a road where I could be doing 60-70 or better but for him. I'm fourth in line behind him--he only beat me to the intersection where I got on by a few seconds. But damned if he didn't add several minutes to my drive and those of all of the other people backed up behind him. Assmonkey.

And of course when we got to one of only two passing areas on this side of the mountain, there's an oncoming car in the other lane. Haven't seen one going that direction yet this morning, but sure enough, when we need to pass this truck, there's one. I swear that these people just set their clocks so that they can arrange to arrive in the passing zone at just theright time. Sigh....

So I suck it up for a few more miles, and when we finally get to the second--and last--passing zone, the assmonkey apprentice right behind the semi balks at passing it even though it's only doing 25mph so no one is able to get past it because then the van behind that guy doesn't want to try to pass them both.

Where are these people all coming from? The same assmonkey convention?

I finally get pissed off and bust the double yellow line on the next hill, passing ALL of them, truck included. Yeah, that makes me king of the assmonkeys this morning but at least I'm getting somewhere now. I took it up to 90 and made some time for the next few miles since everyone who would normally have been on this strip of road was still back behind that truck.

Fast-forward half an hour or so, and things are looking good. I've made up my lost time, so I pull into one of those liberal specialty coffee shops, you know--the chain that seems to only hire unshaven metrosexual guys to serve the coffee and overpriced pastries. I walk in and there's like five people in line waiting to have their orders taken. What's up with that?

Then I realize that the jam-up is caused by the zipperhead in the beige overcoat at the front of the line. He's ordering all sorts of custom coffeess and pastries, and both of the counter monkeys are ambling around trying to fill his order, bagging each freaking pastry in it's own little bag--all the better to clutter some landfill with more of their logos. Finally one of the green-aproned primates asks him rather sarcastically if he's ordering for his whole office this morning, and instead of telling it to mind it's own business and keep filling coffee cups, the zipperhead laughs and says that he is.

OK, that's what Dunkin-fucking-Donuts is for, jack-ass. This is a "to-go" place that isn't really set up for bulk orders that total $42.13 and require two trips to get all of the coffees out to your little yuppified and no doubt foreign-made SUV...probably the one with the Obama stickers all over it.

Hey zipperhead--people like you just need to be shot in the back. They really do. It's justifiable and a courtesy to the world, and my concealed Browning Hi-Power was screaming "Do it, do it!" from it's holster. I think that my fingers even brushed it's Hogue grips once or twice, but I resisted the impulse to improve the world and you're free to keep doing thoughtless time-wasting stuff in front of other people who might actually need to be someplace.

Finally I got back on the road with MY coffee--just a simple no-frills large back coffee. (I refuse to use stupid words like "venti" EVER. Just gimme the largest coffee you got and if you look at me like I'm uncivilized or try to get me to say "venti", I will leap over that counter and smack the ever-loving shit out of you. Got it, counter monkey?)

I had a few choice words for the usual Obliviots who drive along in heavy traffic totally out of sync with the ither vehicles because they're too busy yapping on their cell phones, texting someone, or applying make-up, but eventually I got past them all, and I only felt the need to brake-check a couple of the most egregious offenders--all Maryland-tagged, naturally. What is it that makes that state produce so many people who are totally unsuitable for driving? It's got to be something in the groundwater.

So--how's YOUR day going?