"Pedal to the Metal" or "1 Thing That Will Keep Me Out of Heaven"

Road rage people. I’m surprised by myself quite frankly. I don’t know where it came from. Yesterday morning (Monday morning, mind you), I was already running a bit late. I had left the house about 10 minutes later than normal. So I was already gunning it to begin with, weaving in and out of lanes, and passing up the grannies who choose to go the speed limit (pashaw!) in the “fast lane”. Things were going smoothly. There was barely any traffic on 96-East. I figured it was because of the recent holiday and that maybe lots of people were still on vacation, and I kind of grinned at my good fortune. Still gunning it, I passed the Southfield exits on the right. That’s when I started seeing the looming orange barrels in the distance getting closer and accompanying orange signs on the side of the expressway. “Road narrows to 2 lanes ahead” it warned, “take alternate routes”. Pashaw again! I was sticking to the commuting plan and I would get to work on time come rain or shine! We narrowed to 3, than 2 and even with only 2 lanes remaining, I was still chugging along. At least traffic wasn’t stopped completely. But it wouldn’t last, eventually the signs warned me further that the road would eventually narrow to 1 lane and cautioned me to exit at 94 East and take the Lodge the rest of the way downtown. I hesitated for a moment, but pressed on. Well I should have believed the signs. The road narrowed to 1 lane, and sure enough it was being led by a Mac-truck carrying bricks or something because it was practically crawling up the 1 remaining lane of 96 East. We were diverted onto same crazy alternate route too, we weren’t even on the 96 I knew. We were in some barely cobbled together shared lane of 96 going west bound. I saw an exit (at the end of the tunnel) that read “I-75 Southbound Traffic”. I didn’t realize this was my life preserver, my only hope of getting to work on time (or at least only 10 minutes late). I passed it and continued driving. And then it stopped….traffic was completely shut down. There I was in 1 lane of traffic slowly ascending, barely inching forward towards…dun, dun, duhhhhn…the Ambassador bridge!! Oh crap I thought. I’m going to Canada! I had to sit there knowing it too and not being able to do a darn thing about it. I was stuck and there was no way to get out of the line of traffic. After 30 minutes of this, I finally reached a border/customs worker and rolled down my window. “I don’t want to go to Canada, I need to turn around and get back to the city.” “Turn around ahead and join the line”, she said. I noticed that several other cars were flipping u-ees and heading back as well. At least I wasn’t the only one. I eventually found my way back to Michigan Ave and then to work, but I was about 40 minutes late. Great way to start my week!

I jumped back in the car at 5 o’clock and kind of prided myself on the fact that I could use my trusty short-cut to get around the traffic of 75-northbound. My plan wasn’t so great. I used my short-cut but instead of hopping on 96-west at the usual place, I was forced to stay on the service drive for another few miles, me and all 1 million other commuters trying to get out the city at exactly the same time. I sat there for over 30 minutes. Eventually we were dumped onto the expressway, but it was only onto the 2 narrowed lanes. Ugh. I was hot, tired, and getting crankier by the minute. Eventually we widened to 4 lanes again, and I was gunning it big time, taking my frustrations out on the gas pedal. I looked down and noticed that I was only a quarter of a tank. I saw Middlebelt coming up (Costco Gas), and decided to get off and fill up while I stood a chance of getting gas for less than $4.19 a gallon. I pulled up, already irritated with how long this commute home was taking and bugged by slow people and expensive gas. I pulled up to a lane waiting for a pump to open up. I noticed that a front pump was open, with a large truck behind it. The car waiting in line behind that was a monster SUV that stood no chance of getting around the truck in front to pull up to the free pump. Since I was in my compact little Escort, I figured I could jump at the chance. I inched forward. The SUV took notice of what I was doing, and started to inch forward. I motioned to them that there was an open pump. They inched forward still. I could tell they intended to pull forward to that pump after the guy in the truck in front of them was done. Thing is I knew that I could probably get in there, fill up, and get out of there before any of that ever happened. Not thinking clearly (or charitably) at this point, I squeezed my little Escort between them and pulled up to the front pump. I got out and looked straight forward, trying not to make eye contact with anyone. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to have done, but I figured I was kind of entitled after the day I’d been having out on the roads. The truck behind me of course finished filling up in mere seconds, and the monster SUV pulled up behind me. Oh great. Now I have to stand here and pretend that I’m mute. Instead of having that luxury, the guy got out and snapped. He yelled, “You’re supposed to wait in line like the rest of us!” I was kind of taken back. I told him, “there was an open pump…why didn’t you pull around and up to it?” He repeated himself louder the next time, “You’re supposed to wait in line like the rest of us!!”. I replied, “well you could have pulled up, the pump was open.” Not my finest argument of logic, but when your knees are shaking at the thought of an angry bald man attacking you, it’s the best I could come up with. He glared at me. I shook my head and said, “whatever” and tried to finish up my transaction. Luckily the Escort only had ¾ of a tank to fill and clicked off sooner rather than later and I was able to grab my receipt and get the heck out of there. I felt my cheeks and earlobes burning, and kind of felt like I was going to pass out. I got out of there, and had to get right back on 96 in order to get the rest of the way to my exit at Newburgh. I immediately felt really stupid and bad for what had happened, and slowed down to a normal human-being speed the rest of the way home. I realized that I was getting all worked up about something that ultimately wasn’t that important. What is a few minutes really going to get me? Instead, I should have just slowed the heck down and lightened up a little bit. Here I am acting like a self-obsessed jerk (the same kind of jerk who causes accidents on the road), when in reality that’s not who I am at all. Even on 96 and at Costco, I should be acting the way I know is right. Even on 96 and at Costco I should be an example of the Gospel. I should be a “woman that knows”. It hit me like a ton of bricks, this realization. All of a sudden, I felt really humble and really small. I was reminded of my duty to “stand for truth and righteousness at all times and in all places”. Funny way to learn (or be reminded) of such an important lesson, but that’s how it happens I suppose. When you least expect it, you’re served a slice of humble pie. Guess I’ll be taking the long way home tonight, and am hopefully a little wiser for it.