The people in the car ahead of me are driving too slow. Five miles under the speed limit, but since I'm getting off this road soon, I put up with it, maintain following distance, grit my teeth at how they keep tapping on the brake for no reason. Of course, this means they take the same turn I do and I end up behind them in the acceleration lane onto the interstate. Naturally they don't understand the concept of acceleration too well and tootle along at 45 mph.
"These people are poo-poo-heads," I say. (I realize that "poo-poo-head" sounds really juvenile, but it's fun to say. Say it out loud a few times and you'll see what I mean.)
"Oh, you don't need to go that fast, you're getting off in two seconds," Oz says.
"That is not the point. They are poo-poo-heads. They are a hazard!"
"But it doesn't matter, " he says.
"I know that. But they're still poo-poo-heads!" I figure out what's going on. "Okay. So when you're driving and there are idiots around you, and you start cursing at them, I'm right there being supportive and saying 'Yes, honey, they are poo-poo-heads.' But when I'm driving, you're all, 'Just be zen about it. Om.'"
"Well, yeah. They're not in my way." He finds this very amusing.
220 words | May 6, 2006 10:26 PM | Real true story