Hogging the fast lane

We had a pack of letters to the editor today in the local paper that reminded me of how my badcarma once spread to another driver.

First, the letters were hilarious!

Apparently some bozo had written in some time ago about how ticked off he gets when he's on the freeway, in the fast lane, going the speed limit, by GOD, and some whipper snapper gets behind him and wants to go faster than the speed limit posted by LAW.

He feels it's his duty to stick in the fast lane and keep that other driver from passing, thereby exceeding the LEGAL speed limit.

A couple days ago he heard back from his fellow citizens who wrote letters saying what a total jackball he was.

Most of the letters tried to offer helpful attitudes about how it was much safer for him and would be less stressful if he just moved into the slower lane, yadda yadda yadda. One guy, though, really let him have it and mentioned that, oh YEAH, the "fast" lane is actually considered the PASSING lane and there are lots of signs on the freeway posted by LAW stating that slower traffic must move to the right.

That reminded me of the time I was a passenger in a truck heading north on an area freeway and my badcarma spread to the driver.

It was midday and there wasn't much traffic. We were clipping along in the fast (passing) lane making good time until we got behind a little Honda with two ladies who were just chatting away, having a great old time and going about 20 mph too slow.

We could have easily moved to the right lane to pass. But noooooooo. My companion had a set look to his face. He stayed on their bumper for what seemed like forever.

Shortly, the driver of the Honda noticed this large white truck in her rearview mirror and possibly even the angry looking white guy at the wheel. (Race had nothing to do with why my companion was so upset, but we're white and the ladies in the Honda were black, which may be relevant later.)

The ladies started getting agitated by the proximity of our truck to their bumper and let us know through rude hand gestures that we should back the F off.

Still, we stuck to the bumper. "The right hand lane is free if you want to pass," I offered in what I hoped was a helpful tone. Nothing doing.

This went on for a couple miles until finally, my companion signaled right and moved into the other lane.

As we came up on the ladies, he rolled down his window. They rolled down theirs. (I had no idea what to expect, but already I was cringing.)

Just as we passed the Honda, my companion stuck his left arm out the window and jabbed his finger toward a sign that was coming up in the median.

At the top of his lungs he yelled:
"SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT!!!!!!!!" and then zoomed past.

The ladies both had their mouths open to say something but as we went by I could see the perplexed looks on their faces as they tried to figure out what just happened.

I tried not to laugh. He was sooooo serious. And you know how men are. But even now I'm chuckling!

P.S. The only reason I brought up race is I'm sure those ladies thought this white guy in his big white truck in the middle of hick valley was about to spout a horrid racial slur. Instead, they got an irate driver's training lesson. I've often wondered how they told this story to their friends!