In Which I Laugh at Your Speeding to Get To Work…

Are you really that desperate to get to your job? Are you a musician or a movie star or an artist? Do you perform daily miracles, do you solve horrendous crimes or do you spend your days looking for a cure for cancer? Because…if you’re just heading to a mundane, 9-5, regular joe job like me…why are you riding my ass to get there so quickly? Are there donuts waiting for you in the lunchroom? Do you get a bonus for arriving 5 minutes early? Does the hot receptionist get there early too?

I’ll tell you why I love you butt-riders so much…cause you’re my BAIT CAR. We get to the end of the one lane road – which is 50km/h you know– and onto a two lane stretch…you remove your lips from my tail end, scoot around my soccermomtaximinivan and take off down the road like Paul Tracy. I follow you…at an increased speed, but certainly not at the 100km/h pace you’re taking…and I shout “bait car!”

ONE DAY, maybe, hopefully soon…there will be a cop waiting for you at that bus-stop (I’ve seen him there…don’t think it isn’t a favourite spot of his), obscured by the hydro box and the tall bushes…and he’ll slap a hefty chunk of change ticket on your kiester…

…and I’ll honk my horn and shout with glee…and I’ll laugh…like I laugh when you beat me by 3 seconds to the traffic jam at the end of the two-lane road…

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