I Hate Your Rubbernecking
Traffic is my least favorite thing on this planet. In hell, I am stuck in traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike with no air conditioning, riding in a car with Curt Schilling, Paris Hilton, Sean Penn and Susan Sarandon, talking politics, and my radio station is stuck on a Ecuadorian news station at full volume. I'd rather play Russian Roulette in a Vietnamese death camp than sit in five minutes of traffic. I'd rather eat Raspberry Sorbet out of a prison toilet than spend another hour crawling down I-95. There aren't many things I wouldn't do to avoid sitting in traffic. Traffic fucking sucks. It sucks ten dicks filled with stricnine and gasoline. If I had one wish granted to me, it would be for there to be no more traffic, ever. Or it would be for $1,000,000,000,000,000 so I could buy all of the major thoroughfares in the United States and then blow them up. Back to horse and buggies, motherfuckers, and maybe some enforced walking for you fatties who park in the handicapped spots because your disgusting gut squishes up over the steering wheel and you hyperventilate from the effort it takes for you to inhale a bag of Frito's.
Every time I hit traffic, I take a deep breath and tell myself, "It's okay, friend, it's okay, just relax, it will all be over soon. There is nothing you can do about it now, let's just ride it out calmly..."
OH IS THAT RIGHT, BRAIN? THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO, YOU SAY? WHAT IF I SMASH THROUGH ALL OF THESE CARS AND GET TO THE PEOPLE CAUSING THE ACCIDENT AND DRIVE A PITCHFORK THROUGH THEIR ESOPHAGUSES? WHAT ABOUT THAT, FUCKING BRAIN??? WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT??? AND FUCK YOU 880 AM, YOU DIDN'T WARN ME ABOUT THIS TRAFFIC. IF YOU WARNED ME THEN I WOULDN'T BE HERE. I WOULD BE HOME DRINKING BEER ON MY COUCH IN THE AIR CONDITIONING, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, NOT STUCK NEXT TO THIS PERSIAN ASSHOLE BLASTING OSAMA BIN LADEN'S GREATEST HITS FROM THE STEREO IN HIS DROP-TOP MERCEDES. DIE!
The rapid progression my brain takes from serenity to insanity never fails. I laugh a little bit at first...then grip the steering wheel a little tighter and wish I'd taken a different route...then I start to sweat and curse under my breath...then I hope that someone looks at me cross so I can get out the car and punch them in the throat...then I shake and scream and punch the dashboard and pray to the lord that a asteroid will come down from heaven and land right on my fucking face because I can't take sitting here any longer.
I have issues, I know...
But what makes traffic worse is when it's caused by a bunch of dumb shitheads trying to sneak a peak at what's going on. Oooooooooooh look, smoke! Let's all slam on our breaks and hopefully cause more accidents because no one has anything better to do, right? And people rarely stop for anything worthwhile. It's always some jackass who forgot to properly tie down his suitcase and now his stupid clothes are all over the road and his wife is yelling at him instead of helping him, making the situation that much worse. Now the man will go home so fucking pissed off at his wife that he will inevitably end up plowing Carl's slutty secretary simply out of spite. Great job, nagging wife on the side of the road, YOU RUINED THE MARRIAGE!
There is no reason for you to slow down and satisfy your curiosity. None. You are making everyone late. Just drive past the accident at 70 mph like I do and give the poor bastard with a busted tire the look of death. But no, that's asking too much. You'd rather act like you're on a fucking African Safari. When other people are riding in the car with me, I have to tone the ranting and fury, which aggravates me even more, because venting is the only thing that keeps me from squirting blood out of my eyeballs. Oh look at my smile, everyone in the car, I'm not pissed, you see? I'm laughing at the situation. I'm not ready to thrust my head through the windshield, oh no, that would be barbaric.
I always pretend that the people who insist on slowing to a crawl so they can check out a fender-bender can hear me. And oh let me tell you that I give them the verbal thrashing of a lifetime. You are a failure. You have a below average IQ and your mom dropped you when you were two, THAT'S why you can't hold a steady relationship. Your haircut sucks. You car sucks, too. Yeah, that fucking Honda you're so proud of? Well it makes you look GAY. And you're kids are all stupid. And your daughter is sleeping with a black guy. Oh, I'm so sorry you had to hear it from me, but it's true. So maybe you should be hurrying home to deal with these issues instead of WATCHING SOME DICKHEAD CHANGE HIS TIRE.