...or the continuing saga of the morning commute.
This morning we find our hero, The Highwayman, traveling his well known perilous route of destiny when he suddenly is accosted by one of the worst menaces on the road; Slow Pokerson, the slowest driver around. It wouldn’t be so bad if the Highwayman had run into SP somewhere on the main highway, but the first part of the commute is a one lane road with rarely a passing zone to be seen. Also there was the small problem of having several cars between our hero and the menace of Slow Pokerson. Zounds! What will our hero do?
Unlike many normal road racers, our hero never panics. Calling on his customary cool, calm demeanor, our hero knows his route well and when he sees that the pseudo-funeral line of slow pokes all turn onto the main access road to a connecting highway, the Highwayman quickly darts to the right onto a longer but possibly more advantageous route. The Highwayman needs all his years of experience and guile to maneuver around the sharp turns and tight S curve without slowing down. This has to be a perfect maneuver to pull it off properly. As our hero blasts his way down the mountain road he looks to his left and sees the Slow Pokerson led line has not made it to the highway quite yet. He smiles the smile of the satisfied as he passes by SP at the stop, a tear streaking SP’s cheek as he realizes his prey has avoided him once again.
But the Highwayman’s satisfaction is not long lived. Shortly he comes upon a tiny little Kia fully loaded with big hoodlum looking types stuffing the entire interior of the hard working import. They all have on doo-rags and/ or baseball caps turned at all different angles. The little car is laboring with the effort of hauling this gang of hoods around the mountain and the Highwayman feels a little bad for it. But not enough to embarrass its hoodlum driver when he gets his chance. Knowing that at the top of the next hill there is a small passing zone and that the little car cannot possibly keep the pace uphill with all that weight inside, the Highwayman steels himself for yet another skilled maneuver. He accelerates early and at the precise instant the passing zone comes within range, he jets around the hoodlum mobile and leaves them in the dust. As our hero looks into his rear-view mirror at the glittering gold-toothed grimace of the head hoodlum he finds himself wondering if they know why baseball caps are designed the way they are. Those guys don’t seem to know how to properly place them on their heads. Hmmm…
Our hero finally makes it to the main highway and peacefully and uneventfully proceeds to his one and only stop on the way, his personal refueling station called Starbuck’s. He is welcomed warmly by Rebecca of Sunnybrook who is already preparing his warm elixir of morning life without even asking. She knows his trials and how important her service is to the weary road warriors of the world. With a smile and a free sample of a new Daisy decorated cupcake, Rebecca sends the Highwayman back out onto the road, fueled up and ready for anything.
Our hero finds the driving on the highway this day much to his liking. There are few enemies on the road. He smiles and raises his Grande Latte in a silent toast to whatever fat-cat politician decided that the poor government workers needed another day off and made this day a holiday. Some people appreciate holidays for totally different reasons.
The Highwayman proceeds ahead, cruise control locked on, all systems operating at maximum efficiency, straight ahead, steady course, once again feeling the calm satisfaction of surviving the morning commute. Once again defeating the enemies on the road, the Highwayman prepares to face the day knowing he has a momentary respite from the enemies of the highway, until another time...........
Tune in again next time for the continuing saga of, The Morning Commute.
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