ON BECOMING A LOCAL
Yesterday, I really needed to get to three places, all at the same time, and the car I was following slowly behind wasn't helping me get there (okay, yes, I admit that I was probably being a touch on the obnoxious side and maybe was ... oh I don't know ... tail-gating a bit). Of course, all three places were on different sides of town, with like 10 minutes travel time between each one! OF COURSE, right!? So, slow man up ahead, quickly rode my last nerve.
"Come on, dude!" I shouted at the car with a Washington State license plate. "It's freakin' 55 miles an hour down through here, not 35!"
Then I realized he would slow down even more as a slight bend appeared in the road.
"DUDE! It's not even curvy on this road!"
And I guess that's where a healthy dose of perspective and three years of living in the land of hills and curves have helped me get properly annoyed at the out-of-towners, because come on ... unless we're talking switch-back, kiss-your-a$$ curves sprinkled throughout that road, for all intents and purposes, that road is straight!
"Come on, dude!" I shouted at the car with a Washington State license plate. "It's freakin' 55 miles an hour down through here, not 35!"
Then I realized he would slow down even more as a slight bend appeared in the road.
"DUDE! It's not even curvy on this road!"
And I guess that's where a healthy dose of perspective and three years of living in the land of hills and curves have helped me get properly annoyed at the out-of-towners, because come on ... unless we're talking switch-back, kiss-your-a$$ curves sprinkled throughout that road, for all intents and purposes, that road is straight!
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