May 26, 2015

the red bridge

There’s this left-turn junction at a 3 lane expressway near my workplace that is always congested every morning during the peak hour. The reason is simple: high volume of vehicles required to slow down to turn to that junction. This is exacerbated with the fact that the junction is made up entirely of a slight inclining bridge.

In an ideal situation, one will have to keep to the left lane (and slow down) to make a turn to the inclining bridge. It can be dangerous to turn left from the middle or right most lane of an expressway. But this logic – like in any other similar traffic condition – does not bide well with most drivers in the area. Inconsiderate drivers will just fucking stop at the middle lane, and shove into the queue or directly into the junction. If one can detect infrared from the amount of curses dispensed from a person’s mouth, that area would have been a hotspot glowing in white.

I use the left lane all the time, and I have to contend with this shit whenever I’m on time at work (I’m usually earlier than everyone else, you see…). I must say, I have grown quite inured to it and most of the time, I’d just let those bastards shove into the left lane without any fuss.

But a couple days ago, a luxury MPV (or a minivan, some may call it) speed-shoved into my lane (without switching on the indicator) that it almost grazed my car. My quick reflex saved me an accident and possibly a homicide in the area. I managed to get ahead of the MPV and saw through my rearview mirror a middle-aged balding skinny fuck behind the wheel, who had an odd shaped head like he was clamped too hard with a pair of forceps in the head when he was delivered into the world at a substandard hospital. After a round of customary cussing that only myself could hear, my rage subsided and I continued my way towards Company T and into its parking lot.

Took my time to find a good lot, and then I walked towards my lab. That was when I saw that soapbox MPV again, parked near the building entrance with its engine running. The toxic avenger lookalike bald-headed skinny fuck was in there, keeled over in the driver seat. So the guy must had been having a heart attack which prompted him to drive like an ass! I then rushed towards the van pronto, broke its window, dragged the misshapen guy out of his seat and proceeded to give him a CPR (I snuck in a couple of punches to his face in the process). I saved his life and he woke up in stupor to a bloody nose and a broken window.

Alright, I made the CPR part up. He was slumped in his seat alright, but not from heart attack but from exhaustion. Probably had a night out romping with a cheap prostitute. The guy was sleepy on wheels, which made him drove like he’s on a suicide mission. That fucker shouldn’t have been born, and yet he’s a manager in Company T. Cruel world.

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