Norma gave me a lesson on rush hour traffic. It began as she was telling me how she would not let our strange old maid neighbor, Rhonda, who I've talked about before concerning lawn issues, cut in front of her during the morning commute. Norma figured that Rhonda could get in line with the rest of them, Rhonda theoretically capable of planning ahead for her left turn instead of speeding in the right lane and veering and cutting off a line of people.
Norma's a M*rmon badass and, if I were in the situation, I, Atheist Heathen, would be much too cooperative and polite, figuring that dingbat Rhonda obviously forgot the fucking specifics of her fucking daily commute and, added to that, how close she purposefully cuts it each day. The situation gave Norma quite a charge, her figuring that her own commute and time are no less significant than Rhonda's. However, she dared to wave 'hello' to Rhonda the next morning.
Our rush hour traffic conversation progressed.
You know how when you're set to merge left into interstate traffic that is barely rolling? I usually ease into a nice opening that someone has made instead of riding it out to the end of the merge lane. I have a 'Johnny on the spot, the sooner the better' mentality. Oh no, Norma said from years of experience. Oh no. People really don't like that because that person behind you is going to unfairly have extra people coming over at the end of the merge lane because of you and the way things default to alternating down there. Always ride it out to the end, she admonished. I thought it was pretty hot doggy and kind of greedy going to the end, to go as far as the line would allow and pass by all the others waiting. She says riding it out to the end is the way it should be; each car in the existing line then only has a single car merge in front of it.
She says it's the difference between the casual driver and the regular commuter. Rookie mistake.
She asked if I know how you twirl your finger and put it to your head? Crazy. Cra.Zee. was her pronunciation. Norma said her finger broadcasts to fellow drivers that they're Cra.Zee. all the time, then she laughed, saying that she's probably the biggest nut out there.
I love Norma.
Used to be, Norma would shoot out tires with her index finger. As of the other day, she admits she shoots the car and, if it invisibly hits the person, then so be it.
I'm not a great Christian, she declared. I think I should start calling her Road God Warrior.
Granted, she has an awful commute. She confessed that she wishes she had a gun and wonders what ever happened to vigilante justice. The police aren't doing anything, so vigilantes should take care of traffic matters. She said it's a good thing she didn't go into law enforcement like she'd wanted when she was younger; she's confident that she'd react too much. She also said it's a good thing she doesn't have a gun, because she knows she'd be the one getting shot by it.
We were on the phone and I was giggling so hard, I was rolling on the bed and could not breathe. It felt good, Norma on a rant.