Dear Perky Blonde Driver (in the little sporty white car):
We crossed paths a few times Wednesday afternoon on the highway. Your expensive car is very cute – too bad your turn signals don’t work and contrary to popular opinion, I can’t read your mind. I liked the cute fluffy stuffed animals lined up across your back window. It was only when you were directly in front of me, that I realized they weren’t smiling – their faces were frozen in terror and their eyes were begging me to stop the madness. I saw the same expression of terror on the face of the Buick you cut off when, with a flip of your ponytail, you whizzed on to the highway as if the on-ramp was a launch pad into space (which is right about where I imagine your brain to be), at twice the speed of traffic and then screamed to a halt (along with the rest of us common people). I noticed that you are particularly fond of the pony tail flip, and while it is rather hypnotic, I have to ask…doesn’t your neck get tired when you’re flipping that hank every 15 seconds? You’re young. You’re cute. You’re perky. You’re blonde. We get it!
I just wanted to tell you how impressed I was at your ability to weave in and out of traffic as if parting the Red Sea. You really garnered the attention of the transport truck driver you cut off – he was loudly singing your praises and expressing his passionate appreciation through sweeping hand gestures. Some of them were new to me. In fact, that went on for several minutes. I have to confess that, despite your best efforts to magically by-pass the long lines of snarled traffic, I laughed heartily every time you changed lanes, and then I passed you. Did you notice? I can flip my ponytail too.
I was disappointed that I couldn’t pull off at the service station when you did so I could share some of these thoughts with you personally (or even rescue some of your fearful furry friends). I could use the excuse that you were ahead of me and I had a child and 2 guinea pigs in the backseat. I couldn’t leave the car to venture inside to find you because with the humidex, it was 45 degrees outside. While guinea pig is on the menu in some South American homes, my little girls were not about to be on my menu. The real reason was that I was too intimidated to meet you – I mean, you must be someone pretty special and important to be able to drive like a psycho without consequences.
I will be heading back to the city in just over a week, and perhaps our paths will cross again and I will have the opportunity to speak to you in person. Maybe you could teach me how to do that hypnotic hair-flip? If not, I wish you all the best in your endeavour to “share the love”, especially with truck drivers. They are in it for the long haul and need someone cute and perky to make the trip more interesting