Living in Los Angeles, I'm always, always, always in traffic. Really. Always. I saw a news story that said the average American is stuck in traffic 32 hours a year, but in LA that number rises to 70 hours! Not just time driving, time stuck. Unhappily, miserably stuck, like a mouse whose tail is caught in a trap, frantically looking around for an escape route, even considering chewing off its own tail to escape, but knowing there is no hope.
When I'm stuck going 4 miles an hour on the freeway (why are they even called "freeways" here? they should be called "long parking lots"), there's not much to do but daydream or look at my fellow motorists. I think I should stick to daydreaming. Today as I looked around, I saw a woman applying mascara (driving at least 15 miles an hour while doing so -- I was so tempted to lay on the horn and make her look like Tammy Faye Baker), a guy with the LA Times on his steering wheel (scary that someone would read and drive to begin with, but even scarier that someone would think the crappy LA Times is worth getting into an accident over!!), and 3 -- yes 3 -- people driving and picking their noses.
Note to Nosepicking Drivers: You know what?? We can see you!!! Would you do that sitting in a restaurant? In the park with your kids? On the bus? No. But somehow you think you are invisible sitting in your car! I know some of you think "Hey, I'm never going to see you again, so what do I care?" but you'd be wrong. One of you had a Widget Co. parking sticker on your windshield. I'm sure I'll see you here in the building someday. I'll be sure to hand you a tissue when I do.
And I WON'T shake your hand!
Dying to Live by Michael Stanley
4 hours ago