There’s no way you can live in as gargantuan of a country,
ahem, state, as Texas without facing the occasional necessity of driving long hours
to get to where you need to go. In 6 hours I could get from my house in Phoenix
to sitting on a San Diego beach, scarfing down fish tacos. That same amount of
time in Texas will get you lost amongst fields of hay, longhorns and
Wrangler-clad cowboys, and guess what, you’re still not at your final
destination.
But ahh, the open road! How hard can driving be when you can
pick up sweet tea at any gas station/family-run barbeque restaurant/local bar
along the way, and country crooners grace the five stations your radio will
pick up?
Regardless, driving is a pain, because there is always that
person who competes with you for your spot on the road. Here I am, cruising
along listening to Josh Turner (that voice), and somebody comes all up on my
bumper, guilting me for only going eight over when there is a perfectly nice
lane right next to me. Outraged at this inconvenience, they whip by, only to
settle into the lane ahead of me and slow back down.
….
Did I miss something? I thought you had some terribly
important place to be or something. Some other person to bother perhaps. I feel
awkward passing you again, but, you started it.
And so we dance.
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