Wisdom Through Humor
Blinking Lights

by The Eight Hundred Drivers Ahead of Justin Guy on the Highway This Morning

Just below the sign indicating Maximum 100/Minimum 60 there is a parking lot of cars. Every now and then tires rotate half a circle and then come to a stop once more. We're going to be late for work but that's okay - we don't like what we do for a living anyway. We don't like that we have to go there everyday from 8 to 6 and take shit from some dumb boss who looks down at us through a glass ceiling. Being late for work is fine, we can just blame it on traffic.

Traffic is that mysterious thing that just seems to occur despite professional urban planning and plenty of public transportation. Traffic can be blamed because it's no one's fault. We're not responsible. Besides, traffic can be fun. It gives us strong emotional reactions which gets our blood pumping and our angst out. Not to mention the pay off that comes at the end of traffic just before we get a chance to speed off into the distance. There's always a traffic pay off and it's always so exciting.

The blinking lights.

Wait long enough in traffic and we may be lucky enough to see the blinking lights. Blue and red, sometimes yellow - the excitement is just intense. Blinking lights atop shiny cars parked at the side of the highway. Where there are blinking lights there are often car wrecks and maybe even blood! Getting twisted metal and blood is the real pay dirt in traffic. But normally we're not that lucky. Normally we get blinking lights and a dented fender.

Wow, but what a fender. Rolling by a car immobilized by a dented fender at 1 kilometer an hour is just so exciting, it's worth missing an entire week of work!

Those road flares are just like big birthday candles, we can't take our eyes off of them.

Look at the way that car with the dented fender just sits there on the side of the road! Isn't that just the most incredible thing we've ever seen? It must be because we've slowed down to a snail's crawl to gawk at it. Man, are we ever glad it's not us sitting there in the dented car holding up all this traffic.

We're lucky enough to just be rolling slowly on by at our leisure, picking up the pieces with our eyes and trying not to pull our neck muscles. Traffic is such a mystery.


In My Silence (Poetry by Betty)

99/Nov/1 - A stroll through the garden of thought.

The Loot (Fiction by Mak Faene)

Something for all the bullies who steal candy from little kids.

Introverses' Archives

Return to Homepagetell a friend about