A completely true story that sounds totally made up
I love my commute. Have I mentioned this? It is so quiet. Or not quiet! Or medium quiet! And cozy warm. Or slightly cool! Or carefree and breezy with rolled down windows!
Basically it is whatever I want. Which is why I love it. In my car, on my commute, I reign supreme. Radio volumes bow down to me, and the fan shudders under my tyranny. Blow AIR! I command. And it obeys.
A week or so ago, when the commute was uberfresh and my adoration for it was only just beginning to come into fruition, I sailed down a surface street, radio on, interstate entrance ramp a block away. This is nice, I thought to myself. And then I belted out a few lyrics to the song in my speakers and slowed to a stop at a red light. I look around at my fellow commuters, feeling a camaraderie with each of them. You there, with the Starbucks! Nice morning for a drive, eh? And you! Laughing along with the morning show! I laugh along with you! And hey there, guy next to me with the shades on and the sunroof open! We are professionals about town, are we not? We are, my friend. We are.
(Went the made up conversations in my head.)
And then professional-about-town-shades man lifted his finger to his nose and began to dig.
I looked away.
I looked back.
I looked forward.
That’s when I realized – this guy was going for it. This was no casual “It was a scratch!” Jerry Seinfeld moment. This was an all in, fully invested, Kindergarten-grade nose picking. And it was totally harshing my newly discovered, commute-lovin’ mellow.
So I did what any good citizen of the commuting community would do: I bored holes into the side of his head with my eyes until he felt my steely glare, and then I mouthed the words, “I. SAW. THAT.” straight to his sunglassed face.*
And then like a scene in a movie, the light turned green and I drove away, head tossed back in childish laughter.
*Yes, I really did that.