This post is sponsored by Rocket Sport.
Happy Monday, awesome readers!
Let me start by saying that once upon a long time ago, humans had a built-in ability to “know” when we were being watched. Something to do with our survival instincts, I suppose. During a recent rush-hour commute (and by recent, I mean THIS MORNING), I had the pleasure of witnessing the decline in our capacity to sense when we’re being stalked. Only it wasn’t really “stalking” because I was the “stalker” and that would just make me sound creepy. But in the context of my observation (sitting in traffic), I will say this: I was grateful for the entertainment.
Enter fellow driver and entertainment #1 – The Sneezer
This dude was sneezing so violently that not only did his black Nissan Sentra wobble like a weeble, I could almost HEAR him despite the fact that our windows were closed. The Sneezer must have convulsed close to ten times in less than 14 seconds. I’m thinking he HAD to have peed at least a little!
Enter fellow driver and entertainment #2 – The Binger
After The Sneezer left the view of my rear view mirror, a red Camaro pulled in behind me. The driver was a seemingly very well put-together woman in her early 30s; pretty, full make-up and stunning hair. Then she started eating a sandwich. Nothing extraordinary about that, right? Except that she ate as though she needed to down that thing within a 4-second time limit. Eating quickly is one of the symptoms of being a mom. Except that the moms I know don’t drive around in red Camaros. Not judging; just saying.
Enter fellow driver and entertainment #3 – The Exploder
As I watched the show this guy put on, I actually locked my doors. Mr. black minivan was miming a yelling session so overtly, that I could actually see the veins popping out of his forehead. I’m assuming he was shouting into a Bluetooth device because no one else was in the van with him. I’m not very skilled at reading lips but I’m almost sure I saw the “F-bomb” sputter out of his mouth at least six times. And one of those times was directed at me when I failed to drive forward because I was too busy looking at him to notice that the cars in front of me had moved.
I think it’s safe to say that I’ve reached my entertainment quota for one day.
Translation: I may have invented a new concept in reality shows.
This Moxie-Dude.com post is sponsored by Rocket Sport. Follow @RocketDryer on Twitter during his trip to Sochi!