Wednesday, February 10, 2010

If it was that important to you...

Yesterday morning I was driving to the gym when I stopped at a traffic light. This particular intersection has one through lane, a left turn lane, and a right turn lane that goes nowhere. The intersecting road on the left does not continue to the right. I don't know why there's a right turn lane at this intersection because there is nowhere to go. There's an entrance to a parking lot about 300 feet past the intersection, and I suppose one could use the right turn lane to eventually enter that parking lot, but otherwise it is a useless lane. As I sat at this peculiar intersection, I saw a red pickup truck approach from behind. He and I were the only ones waiting for the light, but he decided to make use of the right turn lane. Well I knew he wasn't turning right so perhaps he intended to turn in to the parking lot a ways up the road. But I suspected that wasn't the case either.
As the crossing light turned yellow this mischievous urge came over me. I still can't explain such an irrational action, but I suddenly had this impulse, almost instinctual, to toy with my rival. I revved my engine. I suppose I could attempt to explain this action away by saying I was getting ready to put my standard transmission in to gear. One must, after all, get the engine going a bit faster before letting the clutch out. But part of me knows that explanation is bunk. I was teasing my visitor, provoking him, poking him with a figurative cattle prod. I knew exactly why he had pulled in to that lane and I couldn't resist adding a little temptation to his morning. As our light turned green he took off like a bullet out of a gun, his modified exhaust roaring loud enough to wake the full-time residents of the graveyard across the street. I, of course, proceeded normally away from the intersection, accelerating as I usually do, having no wish to participate in a drag race. My 4-cylinder Miata engine would never be a match for his 8-cylinder powerhouse with dual overhead cams and a HEMI (whatever that is). In seconds he was back in the through lane and rushing down the highway like he was being chased by the devil himself. As I continued on my way I saw him turn left in to an office park. All sorts of thoughts came in to my head, some not repeatable here. But the one I finally settled on to calm my nerves was "If it was that important to you, then, please, be my guest."

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