Freaky Slug Drivers

Ok, so I am not a frequent slug (I've discussed slugging before, here), but up until yesterday I had had very nice experiences. People weren't bizarre, they were reasonable drivers, and seemed generally cognizant of the fact that there were strangers in their cars and maybe they should be a little considerate of said fact.

Boy...not yesterday. Tim was sick, so thinking that it had worked so well, I toodled over to the slug lot and got in line. On the way in to work, the guy driving was just ...scary. He was the kind of guy that your mom was warning you about when she said not to take rides from strangers. Or at least, he looked like that guy - who knows, he could be perfectly nice. However, reasons I think this is unlikely include: he listened to a very fringe radio station very loudly (this is talk radio, not just weird music. Talk radio that sounded almost ...anarchial in nature. And he would talk back to the station and cheer on the, to my little conservative ears, traitorous sentiments. You know, stuff like the US is the big, bad evil monster and should be destroyed. I didn't know such radio stations existed, but I think it was XM or something - or maybe recorded on CD cause there were never station breaks), he drove very fast - not just "keeping up with traffic" fast, not "going slightly faster than traffic fast", but more like "hold onto your hat cause you're on a rollercoaster" fast, and then he had some strange thing hanging from his rearview mirror and well, I didn't look closely to try and see what it was, but I think it probably had some sort of S&M significance. I couldn't get out of the car fast enough.

So, thinking my dues were paid, I was looking forward to my ride home. Sheesh. Bad plan. First off, the car was a leeetle tiny car with two doors. I got to crawl in the back. The slug in the front was nice enough to scoot forward a little, but even me, with my stumpy short legs, was really mushed. This driver sat like a playah. Legs splayed, arms hanging loose at his sides, one finger on the wheel - when anything other than his knees were driving. He spent the majority of the time adjusting his radio with one hand while cleaning his sunglasses with the other. Or dialing his phone and having long conversations while CHECKING AND RESPONDING TO HIS EMAIL ON HIS BLACKBERRY. Yeah, that's right. He was typing away on his blackberry while driving. Why not just whip out a good novel, at that point? And you'd think that, ok, maybe he's a safe driver and constant in the left lane while doing this? You'd be wrong. We were doing at least 85 the whole time and zooming in and out of lanes around people. I'll give him this, he had talented knees.

So today, when Tim was yet again too ill to go to work. I picked up slugs and drove. Cause I don't make myself nervous when I drive.