In a Hurry to Wait

circa
There are drivers that will pass you on the road at remarkable speeds. Their cause is just, however, because they need to reach all of the stopping points in their path as soon as possible. I sit in awe, and sink slightly deeper into my driver’s seat as they pass. How deeply I admire their dedication to the craft of promptness. Congratulations for beating me in the game of who gets to stop first, I think with tearful applause.

One time, there was a girl driving a decades-old sedan, tailing me like a plecostomus attached to the caudal fin of a shark. This particular sucker decided I was going the speed limit, and promptly passed me at about 30 mph above said speed limit, after crossing the imaginary double-yellow lines. (Only some of us actually see these fabled creatures, while others of us scoff at the ghost stories.) The issue here, though, was that there was a stop sign about 100 feet away, so she had to slam on her brakes to avoid drifting into oncoming traffic at the intersection. Then, she turned in the opposite direction of me, to ensure that I knew she couldn’t possibly have waited an extra two seconds to stop following me. I guess she won?


Another incident involved a fellow twenty-something guy. His friends were encouragingly sitting in every available seat. Again, I made the mistake of following the assigned speed of the road--as spelled out with giant, reflective signs--and he passed me going slightly faster than a diving fighter-jet. There was no stopping-point for a quarter of a mile, so I couldn’t help but regret being so impolite that he had no choice but to pass as soon as fighter-jetly possible. I assume that it was this reason he slowed down after coming back into my lane, and causing me to slow down and wallow in my regulated shame.
It seems this is how some people live their lives: they sprint from one goal to another, without a moment’s pause, just so they can wait longer than those of us to take more time getting to that same point. Every time you catch up, however, notice how they jump off the mark at the exact moment the time is appropriate. You should feel less than these "drivers", because they don’t meddle with the journey--they’re ironically in love with standing still. As soon as jet-fighterly possible.

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