So today I get stuck behind HER. You know her, the one who drives just under the speed limit, keeping everyone else honest. It was dark, and I couldn't really give shape to her features, just a glimpse of the pulled-up hair in her rear view mirror. She made that slow left turn just before me, so that I had to tap hard on my brakes while she inched into my lane. Now mind you, there was no one for a half mile behind me, but she felt the need to be ahead of someone--anyone-- and today was MY lucky day.

If she had been doing the speed limit, or slightly above, I would have never even noticed anything about her. She would have faded into anonymity. But within five minutes, I knew her car make and model. I had even guessed roughly it's age, and I concluded that the car was blah grey. Her license plate was boring, and found myself trying to make it into something interesting, some reverse acronym. As we crept along the single-lane road, I wished she had a vanity plate, one that served as a warning... like SLWPOKE. Others would be forewarned, and could decide to do their shopping or find alternate routes, as was common when the STUDENT DRIVER sign was glimpsed.


I did not get angry at her, blow my horn, or shake my fists. I did find myself mentally reciting, "Oh come ON," as she cautiously braked to go around every generous bend in the road. She was being herself, a good Samaritan, and I was the evil one for wanting to just hurry up and get home. I had so much to do, and usually, on my country ride back, I would organize and prioritize the chores that lay ahead of me. But tonight, I spent an additional ten minutes planted in my plush-covered bucket seat in a fruitless mental endeavor. For the entire time she was in my line of vision, minutes that I was forced to follow the rear of her car, I thought only of HER.