Wednesday, September 18, 2013


Dear stupid Provo Driver:

I realize (though you should understand that this is being uncharacteristically accommodating of me) that texting may occasionally be a matter of life and death.  But it usually isn't.

Unless, of course, you are about to flatten me because you can't look up from texting as you're pulling out onto 45th South.  Fortunately for you and me both, I am a tall, imposing presence, and I have a glare that reaches a mile.  You couldn't help but notice me, I suspect.

Even more fortunately for you, stopping to avoid flattening me also probably prevented you from pulling out onto 45th South while texting.  There is no shoulder on 45th, and you showed no signs of stopping whatsoever.  Did you think that was going to turn out well?

Actually, let's shorten that question: did you think?


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