I sang along to one of the most awesomely terrible songs of the nineties. My phone was dead, so I had to rely on the radio for musical entertainment. I didn’t mind though, this was bringing back ridiculous memories. I laughed to myself and occasionally sang along until the end of the song. Then I grinned like an idiot for several minutes afterward.
I have a tendency to weave in and out of traffic. Sometimes, I count the number of cars that I pass. It’s probably bad, but for some reason, I’m always in a hurry. Today was no different as I made my way through town. I flipped on my blinker, shifted lanes, sped up and added one more to the count as I looked at them in my rear-view mirror.
As I got to the outskirts of town, the road began to narrow. First, the turn lane disappeared, then I saw the sign telling me to merge left. We’d be down to one lane after that. But an old Buick tottered in front of me. I had to try to pass it, really, because I didn’t want to follow anyone. I pressed down on the accelerator with my big toe, then mashed down on it with the rest of my foot. Apparently, the driver saw me coming. He sped up, too. Perhaps he didn’t want to follow anyone, either.
I was forced to merge and follow. I may have muttered about it, too. I just hoped that he’d drive the speed limit. The scenery had transitioned from city to suburbs, which eventually began to give way to cornfields and cows. The Buick in front of me was mostly doing okay, but every now and again, the driver would slow down. It was during these times that I’d get annoyed. Eventually, his turn signal came on. I was mildly excited, because nobody was in front of him, and I could then proceed to my destination, unhindered. I was confused though, when we passed through the next intersection. He didn’t turn, but his signal continued to blink at me, indicating that sometime soon, this driver intended to get out of my way. I slowed down in anticipation, but watched as he passed two driveways and another intersection. Maybe he bumped his blinker, I thought.
Mile after mile, the Buick’s right turn signal blinked. Somehow, it seemed to sync with every third or fourth song on the radio, which made me laugh- which was nice, because I was tired of the car in front of me. “Just turn already and get the crap out of my way!” I thought.
Side roads became less and less frequent, and yet, this car’s turn signal still flashed. Clearly, the driver was a moron or something. I told myself things like, “He must be old. He can’t hear it clicking” and “He’ll catch it soon, right?”
It was a little later and after a disturbingly mean comment that I noticed my own turn signal was on. How long had it been like that? Apparently, I had intentions of turning as well.
★ ★ ★
How much have any of us thought about turning? We picture changes in our lives, imagine repentance and if we’re honest, look for it in others. But sometimes, talking about it or somehow indicating that change is coming is much easier than actually making the turn, isn’t it?