Like sand through the hourglass ...

I touched on this in yesterday's post, but I will expand a little on it today, as there is now a sequel. Everyday, I take route 2 to 128 in the morning. It's the most direct way to work. I am not alone. Seems that everyone in western Somerville merges on to 128 along with me. The line is terrifically long. I don't mind waiting in this line. What I do mind is the fact that there are assholes who refuse to wait in this line. They drive up alongside the mile of bumper-to-bumper traffic until they reach the exit, put their blinker on and bully their way into the front of the line. These people should suffer horribly. They should be forced to vomit their breakfast and eat it again through a straw. They should be subjected to a never-ending loop of Lionel Richie's "Hello" until they go completely insane. I have always complained bitterly about these savages. It seemed that my pleas to the universe for help with this matter would go unanswered.

Until now.

I started noticing that there were cops parked on the meridian by the exit. Yesterday, I mentioned that I asked one of them if their purpose was to police the system and prevent the line cutters. Affirmative. So, you can imagine my delight this morning when, after an impatient chowder head cut in line (in back of me, as I keep my bumper as close as physically possible to the one in front of me at all times) and WAS PULLED OVER. Oh, was I delighted. Nothing could have pleased me more. Not free coffee, not George Steinbrenner's retirement, not a new pair of Doc Martens. Nothing. I pumped my fist in victory, MLB style. It was a great way to start the day. The only thing that could have trumped this was to be a fly on the uniform of that officer. To have listened as the asshole fumbled her words and played dumb when it was explained to her that there are arrows painted on the cement for a bloody good reason.

I know what you're thinking: Hey, get a life. But, these tiny injustices stick in my craw and I can't get past them. Especially when I am faced with them, day after day. So, even if the Red Sox don't force another game, I will have tasted a drop of sweet victory today. The nectar of the traffic gods. Thank you, Massachusetts police!