The Interstate

Well, I'm over in East Tennessee for the Communal Feast of Gratitude. I had to drive on the "interstate" to get here. Which is always an adventure, but even more so when you double the amount of idiots and assholes out there on the road.

The "cool" sight of the day was driving behind and beside an eighteen-wheeler when he hit a deer that had apparently jumped out in front of him. I couldn't see, because I was back a ways, but he either didn't have time or the inclination to slow down. He never hit his brakes.

And the deer exploded into little meaty bits that went flying all over the interstate. Mmmm. Deer.

Since the driver of the big rig didn't feel the need to stop, neither did I.

Also. Folks, humans, androids....if I may. If you're driving in the righthand lane coming upon a ramp where other people are going to be entering the interstate....and the left hand lane is empty? Go ahead and get over. You didn't fight in the war for that space on the road, so get the hell over, please. The interstate is as much mine as it is yours.

And for the record: Matching speeds with the person trying to get on the interstate? That makes you a "dickweed" and a "spiteful shit eye."

Lastly, the "interstate" is for all of us to use, but I'm perfectly willing to exclude Georgia on account of the Big Silver Ford Excursion with the Cobb County plates with the lady who couldn't decide whether she would rather ride my ass or get in front of me and slam on her brakes. She was a "hobag."

Lastly, can I say that it's simply amazing the model of consistency The Tennessee Department of Transportation has become. It's managed to squeeze four lanes of traffic into two for nearly 5 years now running through Chattanooga. And I do so love those Hamilton County cops who like to set up halfway through the road construction so that they can dole out those $500 Do Better Letters. Makes me feel all safe, and everything.