Orphan Survival Stories
I was speaking with someone just the other day, as I was stopped along the side of the road. I was strongly and very firmly voicing my opinion about how bad all the drivers are who are allowed on the road today.
I told him that I felt the young people of today couldn't drive worth a hoot. Mainly because they do not have enough experience and they thought, because they are young, that they owned the entire roadway. I also said that the youth of today could not hear me when I honked my horn at them, because of the music they are listening to. The music is so loud that their vehicle windows moved back and forth at least a quarter of and inch, in their frames. All that I was trying to do was teach them that they were doing something wrong.
Then there are those really old people. Gee! The light changes from red to green and it seems to take them at least 10 to 15 seconds for that wrinkly old signal to work it's way from their brain to their foot so they can push the gas petal down and finally start moving forward. Come on folks. Life as we know it in the real world has to continue its normal cycle. I know that those older people love those big expensive cars with those big ugly taillights. But give me a break. I can see those ugly looking lights when we are moving forward and they are hitting the break petal every five or six feet or so.
But even worse than that are the 20 to 30-year-olds who think that the roadway is their own personal racetrack. They zip in and out of traffic at 2,000 miles per second, right lane to left lane and then left lane to right lane. Back and forth making their way forward, only an inch at a time, while driving those ugly looking little sports cars that they think are so cute. There were times when I could barely keep up with them.
What about those dirty looking pick-up trucks, with the dead deer on the hood with it's tongue hanging out and all those metal wire cages full of dogs on the back end. How can these guys even drive with that much mud all over their trucks? They can't even see through the darn windows.
Oh yea, I forgot about those trucks with the great big axles and tires. What is that all about? One drove up next to me the other day when I was over by the mall and raced his engine at full throttle as though he wanted to race me. When I turned my head to see who was driving the ridiculous contraption, all I could see through my side window was several large 24-inch raised letters that read "B.F." or something like that on the side of the tire.
"I will tell you this right now. It is very discouraging for me as a decent, honest, law-abiding citizen that I cannot drive down the road today feeling safe from those kinds of drivers." The police officer, rolling his eyes at me, handed me the ticket book and requested my signature. Then he handed me back my drivers license, tipped his hat and said "Now you have a nice day, sir."
"What a ‘Dink,’ I thought as I drove away. I headed back out onto the roadway once again to teach the world how to drive, correctly.