Grand Theft Kimbo

Racing up the middle lane of the expressway I shift back over into the fast lane, cutting off the person talking on their cell phone. Or, at least, that’s what I imagine they are doing; I can’t really tell because it’s raining this morning, making my commute that much more of a challenge.

Do you ever feel like your commute is like a video game with obstacles at every turn? Those mornings you hit every traffic light and sit at the red wishing you knew Seth Green’s character in The Italian Job. “You’ll never catch the real Napster,” right?

People on cell phones and red lights aren’t the only obstacles though; the other morning I saw a man sleep-driving. Perhaps this is the next step-up from sleep walking and he was part of a clinical study, but somehow I doubt that. Besides, don’t those experiments take place in a closed course with controlled conditions? Let’s hope so.

So obstacle after obstacle I begrudgingly made my way to work this morning. At the big turn off the final main road I found myself on the cut-through side street facing a school bus. Stop-sign out like a gun drawn in the old westerns I could hear that music in the background, like a low whistle. Fortunately the flashing lights went off and he pulled the stop sign back in before I had to draw. Yellow belly.

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