Thursday, May 15, 2008

So I'm driving to work today and my route takes me through a residential side street that has wider roads. The road SCREAMS 45mph, but the speed limit is a paltry 30mph. The local gestapo decide it's time to set up one of those automated radar gun speed signs, the ones that gun you as you drive by and flash like mad when your car exceeds the speed limit by 1 mph. I'm rolling behind the poster child for geritol, and she's going about 33. The sign flashed like mad, and she grinds down to 20 mph. Twenty. I rollerblade that fast down hills (pass the Mountain Dew please). And she keeps going at 20 until she finally turns off from the direction I'm heading. I've got cars stacking up behind me to the horizon, and this woman is driving like she's in a funeral procession, maybe she's trying to get a first hand experience of what it will be like next week when it is hers? Regardless, she deserves to have her license revoked. She could never pass the Vo drivers qualification test: Get a score of 30 or better at the Chuck'e'Cheese Bash the Gopher game or surrender your license. Beat-freakin-down, grandma.