Route 1: Revisited

Dear Route 1,

It's been awhile since we've last spoken. I know I made myself clear when I told you it was over between us. I've driven over you since our parting without so much of a Hello tossed your way. But today, the silence must be broken. Because today, Route 1, today you pissed me off. Big time.

Please explain to me the reasoning behind the road work at 8:30 a.m. I was driving along, enjoying the sunshine, singing aloud to Christmas carols when I saw the orange cones in the distance. "Merge Left" the sign instructed. OK. I merged left. But what is that big sign up ahead? A stop sign? Are you serious?

So I stop. And the man behind me in the truck stops. And lights a cigarette which means I have to switch my air intake to internal instead of external because I do not want to smell the smoke. And we sit. And sit. And sit. And....oh, wait! No, just kidding. We're still sitting.

Five minutes go by. Ten minutes. Twelve minutes and ARE YOU SERIOUS? And now, Route 1, I'm starting to get a little nervous. Because the man behind me? He's Freaking. The. Hell. Out. As in screaming obscenities and slamming his steering wheel so hard that the truck is shaking. And in your genius, Route 1, you have left no escape route. There's a median to my left, cones to my right and vehicles in front and behind me. If the guy goes postal, I'm going down.

So I eat my granola bar and try not to look in my rear view mirror (even though I want to watch the freak out) because I'm afraid if we make eye contact I'll become a victim of some serious road rage. I blame you for instilling this fear in me, Route 1.

And then, a highway worker starts flipping out at the cops up ahead because they're not paying attention and they've been letting cars go in the opposite directing for nearly 15 minutes now and there is a line for miles backed up in my direction. I know this because he was throwing his hands in the air and yelling. He was doing this next to my car, Route 1. Also your fault.

And finally, when we start moving, I get leered at. A gross snarl from a scruffy man in a hard hat who topped it off with a wink. And the road work? You mean that piece of plywood we bounced over? I didn't find that so amusing, Route 1. I really didn't. After all that there should have at least been a big hole.

I feel secure in my earlier decision to end our relationship. Tomorrow I will once again drive over you and give you the cold shoulder.

Just remember, you brought this upon yourself.