by Lori Allen
They drive though red lights, they stop on green lights, they slow, then with a change of heart, rush through yellow lights. They do not turn right on red even though the law permits itBecause they know.
They know when to pull out in front of you at the last second. They know that when they have succeeded at that dangerous maneuver that you are trapped. They know, and they slow down to bask in their glory. They know to drive slowly. They know you cannot pass them because they weave.
They weave to the left, they weave to the right. They weave in slow, graceful sweeps into the other lane and they weave in quick, jerky movements onto the shoulder. They are the concerto of the roadways.
Yes, they know.
They know you have things to do. They know you have a specific mission to accomplish in a limited amount of time. They know your exact route and your destination as if they dwelled in your very soul. They have the innate ability to surmise your life’s essence.
They know the bickering and whining you have already endured from your hungry family. They know your family may be appeased by obtaining a simple carton of milk, which you kitchen seems to be lacking, from the store located miles away. They know your peaceful evening relies on getting that carton of 2% milk, not skim or whole, for a bunch of people who can’t drink your skim milk for one lousy meal. Yes, they know.
And they wait.
They wait for you to leave your home. They wait for you to enter your vehicle. They wait for you to back out of your parking space and drive down the street. They know you are in a hurry to get to the supermarket before it closes. They wait, and then they move in – right ahead of you.
They know that if you take a shortcut around the block to get ahead of them, you will be held up by construction or a traffic light or some other obstacle that will inevitably place you in the exact same spot as before – behind them. They are Satan’s chauffeurs, for THEY DRIVE.
And yes, they know.
They know that to stop ten feet behind the white line at an intersection irritates you.
They know that ignoring the green left turn arrow until it turns yellow frustrates you.
They know that speeding up and then turning into the supermarket’s parking lot at the last second without a turn signal or brake lights exasperates you.
They know that to take the last parking space at that market enrages you.
They drive you to the brink.
And … They drive shopping carts.