Driving To Distraction

My wife and I were in the car together this morning when we came upon a major traffic snarl.  You are probably thinking “he’s got to be kidding. Rush hour in Gray Maine is like the line at the Dunkin Donut anywhere else, and you would be right.  No, it was not that kind of snarl, nor were there any traffic lights (we have two) out, or emergency vehicles, or an accident.  Nope.  None of those.  It was worse.  I had somehow pulled up behind a student driver.

Now, I think I am a pretty good driver, however, I seem to be better when I am alone because I never criticize myself.  I follow the speed limits, albeit, at somewhat of a distance.  My wife says I have a heavy foot, however, I know we just happen to live in an area where the posted speeds are somewhat depressed.  I prefer to think of them as a suggestion rather then a directive, so you can understand my consternation over the impediment to my progress that loomed in front of me.

Being a reasonable man, I rationalized that they wouldn’t be going far and, after losing them, I could return to my normal senior (as in experienced) driver environment.  But, they didn’t stop.  Mile after mile, we crept along.  I noted I could just barely see the top of the instructors head.  I didn’t know if that meant he was extremely short, or he was crouched down, trying to avoid looking out the windshield.  That is when I realized that up until now, my wife had not uttered a word.  I had not been corrected once during the whole trip.  Since I knew she was awake, it could only mean one thing.  She was in union with the driver in front of me.  She’s got to be missing a gene.

Under normal circumstances, when we travel together, I feel like my driving is a regulated activity, complete with a referee, sans hand signals.  I am regularly flagged for going too fast, following too close, hugging the center line/curb, and her favorite, gawking (a red flag, subject to review and a penalty).  And not once have I ever whistled her for taunting.  But here we were, poking along, and not one word.  Nothing about a delay of game or illegal procedure. Nope.  Silence. 

As it was, we ultimately turned off before the student driver did, and given their rate of progress, I assume they are still out there somewhere, leading a parade of cars… to wherever.  I for one, have spent a couple of hours regulating my breathing and ministering to my blood pressure.  Everything is pretty much back to normal now and I am ready to move on.  I’ll give it a couple of days and give it another shot.  Who knows?  I might even catch a couple of green lights.  Just sayin.


About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at poormanspoet.wordpress.com to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
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