Yesterday evening, after a dinner out, my wife, M.F., and I were driving home along our town's main drag, a five lane street with a turn lane in its center, when a yokel in a truck pulled out from the left, entered that middle turn lane, and proceeded to drive next to us.
"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to drive up the turn lane," I remarked to M.F. while keeping an eye on the jackass next to us.
"He's probably d-r-u-n-k," she speculated. "Slow down and let him get ahead of us, so we can keep an eye on him."
"He's probably just s-t-u-p-i-d," I replied, and then added with a bit of the ol' snarky disdain, "or, more likely, s-t-u-p-o-o-d."
We rode in silence for moment while I let the jackass enter our lane ahead of us.
"Hold on. That's not right," I said, breaking the silence. "It's ... um ... s-t-o-o-p...", but it was too late to recover. M.F. was already laughing hysterically. Damn! Hoist with my own snarky petard!
I am just so suave... s-m-r-t, too!
"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to drive up the turn lane," I remarked to M.F. while keeping an eye on the jackass next to us.
"He's probably d-r-u-n-k," she speculated. "Slow down and let him get ahead of us, so we can keep an eye on him."
"He's probably just s-t-u-p-i-d," I replied, and then added with a bit of the ol' snarky disdain, "or, more likely, s-t-u-p-o-o-d."
We rode in silence for moment while I let the jackass enter our lane ahead of us.
"Hold on. That's not right," I said, breaking the silence. "It's ... um ... s-t-o-o-p...", but it was too late to recover. M.F. was already laughing hysterically. Damn! Hoist with my own snarky petard!
I am just so suave... s-m-r-t, too!
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Come to my town--people drive like that every day. "What -- the turn lane is only for left hand turns? Isn't it to like pass people too or to sit and wait while I contemplate my next move?" I hate driving here most of the time.