Cranky Driver

Remember when you were first learning to drive and the road was so exciting? You would beg your mom to let you drive down the street to Dairy Queen just so you could practice parking-- and not hitting Wednesday night pedestrians that flooded the establishment after church let out. 

You would smile (or sometimes scream) as you changed lanes and when you got lost, it was a funny story to tell your friends at the basketball game. 

Fast forward like 10 years and you realize you have become your former worst enemy:

The cranky driver.

I realized I have become this person. The person who mumbles undistinguishable sentences when I'm at stop lights. The person who hits the vents like it makes the cool air come out any faster. The person who hands out arbitrary names to stupid individuals. 

"Well, Mary Lou-- please, by all means, just cut in front of me and forget to turn on your blinker. I appreciate it."

Multiply the grump by two when the crotchety Ray couple gets together in a vehicle. We have this bitter diatribe, especially when we see large trucks who think they rule the road.

Say we pull into Chili's and some Dodge monster truck has taken up two parking spaces. So it begins:

{In a low, sarcastic voice} "Hey, I drive a big truck." -Justin "Yeah, my truck's so big, I can do whatever I want." "I drive a big truck. Look at my truck. I drive a big truck."

Then we laugh. Somehow hoping that this is a proper disguise for our lame loathing of the open road.

Perhaps yesterday was the worst case of "I need a chauffeur. Bad."

Driving to Searcy, I dumped my Route 44 Sonic drink all over my feet and into my cup holders. I began to cry. That's when I came to this realization that I now hate driving.

I caught every red light, giving myself time to soak in that my favorite shoes were marinating in Diet Dr. Pepper. I began to cry and mumble about how I hate red lights, the people in front of me at red lights and how hot Arkansas is. And how driving causes me to want to say wordy-dirds. And.why.isn't.my.air.coming.on.right.now.

It's such a sad thing to discover. That the open road is now a go-cart track that you can't stop going in circles on. I used to go for "drives." Now I work 6 hours to pay for a tank of gas. 

Speaking of that, lunch break is over. I have to get back in my car and try not to kill anyone or shout anything but "Life is a highway. I want to ride it all night long." 

See ya in the fast lane.