You know it's time for the playoffs when...
So last night, I'm
I'm on I-94, in the left lane. I'm chatting to Ryan (...I know. Shut up.) and getting rather annoyed at the folks in front of me. There are massive semi-trailer trucks in the next two lanes over, and although the speed limit on this stretch is 55, the accepted speed limit is 70. The two cars in front of me were doing 58, and I was a mite annoyed. I suppose I could've dropped back and weaved around to pass on the right, but then I would have missed this little eye-opener.
So, being the concerned citizen that I am, I tailgate up on the white car in front of me, then drop back to a reasonable distance. He puts on his right blinker, and I think, Wow, this guy must be human. He not only accepted a stimulus and interpreted it correctly, but is taking action to amend his misstep. Incredible! (Yes, in my head I really do sound like that. Shut up.)
Now that he's signaled he understands my impatience, I was willing to be patient (heh). However, it soon became clear to me that there was, in fact, a second car that was the true cause of the slow. A black mustang (pre-2006 body design, not-convertible, for shame), holding resolutely steady at the front end of the semi, doing 55 miles per hour. What a law-abiding specimen of humanity. I tailgate those when they're in the left lane.
Finally, it looks like Blackie and White Car are going to speed up. Alas, this is not so. Next thing I know, White Car stomps on the brakes, beginning a chain reaction that travelled back through me and beyond, and the next thing I know, there's something flying through the air at my windshield.
Now, those of you who remember The Great Alabama Trek of '06 will recall that a large-ish rock (about 2 inches in diameter) had already made a rather impressive, er, impression on my windshield. Therefore I'm not currently too happy (not that I ever am, really) about things flying at my car whilst on the freeway. I think I ducked reflexively, and you may have to check with Ryan to see if there was any hearing loss from the accompanying screech.
Fortunately (I suppose), the object hit Hannah's hood. I think it took a second or two for me to react, and you'll have to check with Ryan for exactly what I said, but I think it was along the lines of...
That fuckity fuckin' bastard just threw a BASKETBALL out of his car! At me!(well, us) WTFBBQ! (screech again for good measure)!
Sure, Motor City, Hockeytown. But it's playoff time, man. I wonder if it was a Pistons(TM) basketball...
Asswipe.
I'm on I-94, in the left lane. I'm chatting to Ryan (...I know. Shut up.) and getting rather annoyed at the folks in front of me. There are massive semi-trailer trucks in the next two lanes over, and although the speed limit on this stretch is 55, the accepted speed limit is 70. The two cars in front of me were doing 58, and I was a mite annoyed. I suppose I could've dropped back and weaved around to pass on the right, but then I would have missed this little eye-opener.
So, being the concerned citizen that I am, I tailgate up on the white car in front of me, then drop back to a reasonable distance. He puts on his right blinker, and I think, Wow, this guy must be human. He not only accepted a stimulus and interpreted it correctly, but is taking action to amend his misstep. Incredible! (Yes, in my head I really do sound like that. Shut up.)
Now that he's signaled he understands my impatience, I was willing to be patient (heh). However, it soon became clear to me that there was, in fact, a second car that was the true cause of the slow. A black mustang (pre-2006 body design, not-convertible, for shame), holding resolutely steady at the front end of the semi, doing 55 miles per hour. What a law-abiding specimen of humanity. I tailgate those when they're in the left lane.
Finally, it looks like Blackie and White Car are going to speed up. Alas, this is not so. Next thing I know, White Car stomps on the brakes, beginning a chain reaction that travelled back through me and beyond, and the next thing I know, there's something flying through the air at my windshield.
Now, those of you who remember The Great Alabama Trek of '06 will recall that a large-ish rock (about 2 inches in diameter) had already made a rather impressive, er, impression on my windshield. Therefore I'm not currently too happy (not that I ever am, really) about things flying at my car whilst on the freeway. I think I ducked reflexively, and you may have to check with Ryan to see if there was any hearing loss from the accompanying screech.
Fortunately (I suppose), the object hit Hannah's hood. I think it took a second or two for me to react, and you'll have to check with Ryan for exactly what I said, but I think it was along the lines of...
That fuckity fuckin' bastard just threw a BASKETBALL out of his car! At me!(well, us) WTFBBQ! (screech again for good measure)!
Sure, Motor City, Hockeytown. But it's playoff time, man. I wonder if it was a Pistons(TM) basketball...
Asswipe.