Commuting is the most communal and solitary thing I do on a daily basis. I get up in the morning and secretly hope to myself that everyone will have decided to stay home that day. Yet I am always predictably crushed to see you on the road.
OK, I am not always crushed...I guess there are some great moments you and I have out there. Like the time when we cooperated and you let me cut in front of you so I could merge onto the 110 South from the 5 freeway during rush hour? Or when you try to communicate with me by honking your horn (are my lights off?), waving your fist out of your car window (??), or pulling up beside me to look me straight in the eye (Oh).
One of my favorite moments is when we hear an ambulance siren far off and we decide to pull over together and let the ambulance go by. I love waiting with you alone in my car on the side of the street.
Most of the time, though, I want to just be able to ignore you-get out of my way, just move faster, why are you turning left right NOW?, fuck, asshole, you almost hit me!!!
Why, when I start my engine, do all of you out there suddenly become my competition, my pest, my co-dependent and sometimes, my savior?