This morning on my way to work, I pulled up behind an old nemesis that I haven’t noticed on the road to work for some time. There was a time when I got behind this guy three times in the same week. Then, it was just the odd time. How do I know it was the same guy? Number one, he has a personalized license plate. Number two, the guy drives 30 kms/hr.
His car was three or four blocks ahead of me when I pulled on to 4th Ave., but it didn’t take me long to catch up. I finally rolled in behind him at the intersection of 4th and Lewvan. I asked myself, “Do I really want to follow this guy for the next 5 or 6 blocks, or should I turn off and take Lewvan in to work this morning?” For some odd reason, I decided to ride this guys tail all the way to Albert St. I told myself, “Don’t whine and complain about how slow this guy’s going. You knew what you were getting yourself in for.”
I hate tailgaters, but I become one every time I get behind this guy, hoping to gently encourage him to at least get close to the speed limit. I was six feet behind him, which didn’t phase him in the least. Passing wasn’t an option. My luck, the minute I passed him would be the exact same minute a cop car showed up.
From experience, I know this guy goes straight across Albert St., so I could hardly wait to make it there so I could finally turn off and get out from behind him.
This morning was certainly an exercise in patience, which I knew it would be, but I still failed miserably.
This guy would make the worst ambulance driver ever!