Road Trip

Ann: How was your road trip? It was a long one, right?

Pam: Not too bad. Bret drove the whole way and it didn’t make me too nuts. You know he drives like a ninety-year-old man.

Ann: Yeah, you’ve told me Bret’s ‘Mr. Where’s-the-fire?’ I know if you guys are in a hurry or running late you'll always drive. It’s pretty funny. Usually it’s the man who drives faster.

Pam: He drives just like his dad used to. What’s funny is he always complained to me about how slow his dad drove, and now he’s the exact same way.

Ann: We all turn into our parents in some way eventually.

Pam: I must have turned into my mother because I made a bit of a fool of myself on this trip.

Ann: How so?

Pam: I was doing pretty good resisting the overwhelming urge to tell Bret how to drive. I was dying to say, ‘For goodness sakes, they’re passing you on the right; move over!’ or ‘Why are you in the right lane at a red light when we’re not turning? It really annoys everyone behind us who wants to turn right on red’.

Ann: So Bret’s the guy I’ve been driving behind for years!

Pam: If you think it’s bad to be behind him, imagine being trapped in the car with him.

Ann: So how’d you make a fool of yourself?

Pam: We were on the highway following this particularly slow tanker truck. You know those big shinny silver ones with the ladder?


Ann: Those things always make me nervous. I guess I’m afraid they’ll sort of spontaneously combust or that the driver is smoking and will set it off. I pass them as quickly as I can.

Pam: Me too. I figure it’s better to see them explode in my rearview mirror than drive right into the fireball right?

Ann: Absolutely.

Pam: So after miles of following right behind this big silver tanker I finally had to say something and asked Bret to please pass it. When he asked why, I told him just what we were talking about. He said it was silly and that I’d been watching too many action movies with him. But he agreed, moved to the left lane, sped up, and passed the truck.

Ann: That was nice of him. He’s right though. The odds are that those trucks will never explode, but why take a chance when you don’t have too?

Pam: Yeah, that’s what Bret said as we passed the tanker and we read the side of the truck. ‘You’re right honey…you never know when thousands of gallons of milk will just suddenly explode into a ball of flames!’

Ann: Hey, the milk could have come from Mrs. O'Leary's cow.