I am driving to Palo Alto earlier today on Interstate 280. Everybody that has ever driven on the 280 knows that 280 traffic flows much more quickly than on highway 101. The speed limit reads 70 most of the way between San Francisco and Palo Alto, but everybody drives around 80. The highway is not straight, and curves through green hills and reservoirs in the Peninsula heading towards Silicon Valley.

I come across a car in front of me doing about 65. This is rather odd because everybody, and I do mean everybody, is doing about 80 down the freeway. In addition to going annoyingly slow, the driver of this small SUV appears to be driving by Braille. This is the act of using the bumps that separate the lanes inform you that you need to correct your steering. You know, like a blind person. What the hell!?

Could this person be drunk!? At 9:30 AM this would be quite a feat, so I decide to reason further. Could this person be blind!? Realizing quickly that the DMV does not, and should not, issue licenses to blind people, I quickly move on. Could this person be retarded!? Realizing that the IQ of the average driver is lower than the speed limit signs on the highway I examine further. Suddenly, I notice the license reads “TWO PHDS”–so this person couldn’t possibly be retarded, right!? Surely, someone who has two doctorates has heard of the laws of physics, of inertia, of the bone crushing transfers of energy that happen when vehicles collide, right!?


Wrong! Mr. Two-Motherfuckin’-phDs was actually reading! Yeah, apparently one of the doctorates must have been obtained while driving behind the wheel. Maybe the dissertation happened in transit! I matched my speed this idiot and glared at him as he swerved toward my car not once, not twice. As he proceeded to swerve towards me a third time, I honked my horn and scared the bejeesus out of him. He was visually shaken and dropped his article. He stared back–he was scared. I continued to glare and slowly I shook my finger at him Dikembe Mutombo-style and drove ahead.

Yeah, not on my watch you accident-waiting-to-happen-coke-bottle-glasses-wearing-mofo! I am sure he continued reading whatever he was reading after I moved on ahead of him, but at least I got the satisfaction of knowing that my horn brought temporary sanity into the world. Plus, I think I made him pee in his pantskickass!

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