The Norman Transcript
NORMAN — Friday is supposed to be the light at the end of the bleak work week tunnel. We assume that this particular day is the gateway to two days of fun and relaxation. Think again, my friend.
Unless you are “rich and redheaded” (the red hair being easier to achieve than the rich part) and can afford to pay someone to handle the dreaded weekend “To Do” list, you have chores to tackle. They may include, cleaning house, laundry, grocery shopping and other activities that have never been associated with the term “fun.”
Perhaps that is the reason that on any given Friday, drivers are hit with what can only be called temporary insanity, which clouds their judgment. Or, is there an internal switch that flips to on each Friday morning and curses us with a dose of the “stupids”? How else can the antics of fellow drivers be explained?
Just look. They are all around you and your lovely, unblemished vehicle, hemming you into the space your vehicle occupies. OK, claustrophobia notwithstanding, those Friday maniacs get close enough to play bumper cars. No wonder so many people end up speaking in tongues (impolite wishes) during their daily commute.
In spite of what passes as the rush hour norm, Fridays elevate the experience one giant step beyond common sense, both in the behavior of some and in the vocal responses of others.
Knuckles turn white as we guide our vehicles away from the menacing folks around us. What part of stay within the lines do they not comprehend? In case you flunked Physics class or never even heard of physics, two objects cannot occupy the same space at the same time. Consequently, when this type of situation occurs, even the most benevolent souls among us do not believe in sharing.
When you encroach on my line-defined turf, you endanger both of us as well as the unfortunates who are in close proximity to our vehicles. As two cars collide, things tend to spin out of control and parts fly in all directions. For the record, if car parts fly in your direction, ducking your head will not protect your car.
If you think insanity seems to be rampant during the Friday morning commute, wait until the afternoon drive home. Other people’s recklessness has resulted in a hospital stay or an even less enticing and more permanent six feet under. Neither of those scenarios appears on any “To Do” List we have ever seen or written.
There may be a few possible explanations for wild Friday driving. One is reckless stupidity. Another may be the mistaken belief in one’s immortality. Or, perhaps the overly aggressive drivers have swallowed a combination Incredible Hulk and Frankenstein pill before getting in their cars. As you may recall, neither guy was a close relative of Einstein. In fact, good old Frankie sported a borrowed brain that Igor dug up from some unsanitary hole in the ground. Therefore, popping an IH/F pill is an ill-conceived idea.
If none of the above is true, then we are left with one sad and highly disturbing possibility. The Friday pod people are possessed by a self-destructive demon. In other words, they exhibit all the signs of folks who have an unconscious death wish. In that case, there is a problem. Other people could get hurt in the process.
But seriously, folks. Since the safety of the many outweighs the foolhardiness of the few, we strongly suggest that the irresponsible reconsider their dangerously stupid behavior. Keep in mind that rushing home or elsewhere to relax could produce undesirable consequences, and no relaxation.
Elizabeth is a freelance writer and author. Her new novel “Sins of the Father” is available on amazon.com. Visit her website: www.elizabethcowan.com.
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