The Driver In Front of You
Entry for 2017-12-07


Excerpted from The Hippo in the Fast Lane
He proceeds at the pace of a glacier, blocking your path, holding up all traffic in what used to be called the "fast lane" of the freeway. He wallows in the shadow of a livestock truck in the other lane, side by side, so that neither you nor anyone else can get by.
He is a hippopotamus. He belongs on the Serengeti Plain, where there is room to pass.
Once you have exhausted your catalogue of profanity, scatology, and blasphemy, you fall silent and begin to wonder: who is this person? Where will I meet him again? Will he turn out to be the plumber I call when the pipes break and the water is rising toward the fuse box? Will he be the brain surgeon called on to "rush" to the hospital and control my cerebral hemorrhaging caused by this traffic jam or the next one?