By Dorothy Denne
We were stopped at a traffic light – I reached over and flipped off the air-intake fan because a big bus was belching black smoke right in front of us. I glanced over at the white car to our right. “Oh God, that guy is picking his nose and he has a mustache. I’m trying not to look.”
It was kind of like when a kid comes up, pulls back his lip and says, “You want to see my sore?”
You don’t want to, but you can’t help yourself. You look. Or, someone says, “Phew, this really stinks, smell it.”
You don’t want to, but you can’t help yourself. You sniff it.
I was a little like that with the guy with the mustache, the nose and the finger. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help myself. I had to check now and then to see if he was having any success. It was the first time I’ve ever been happy to be distracted by a driver behind me talking on a cell phone.
The light turned green and we all moved forward. Just as I was under the freeway overpass, the light ahead turned yellow. We emerged from the shadow into the sunlight. I noticed the gal behind me had removed the phone from her ear and would probably stop on time. The white car with the nose, mustache, and finger made a right turn. The bus in front of me drove through the now red light.
I stopped. I reached over and flipped on the air-intake fan. My friend said “Well, you’re in car heaven. You’re not stopped under the overpass, the guy with the busy finger is out of sight, the phone conversation is finished, the bus is gone, and your air is on. What more could you ask?”
A sport utility vehicle pulled up beside us. I didn’t want to look but I couldn’t help myself. I looked. A big red dog had his head out the window. Drool was dripping from his tongue. The light changed. I hit the gas and beat the SUV out. I didn’t want to see where that drool would fly. This time I could help myself.
