Swerving, dodging and jiving. The one-finger-salute, hands up in the air, and arms flailing out of windows. The yelling, the screaming, the name-calling.
Maybe I'm too young and naive, but wouldn't the freeway run smoother if we all cooperated? If we treated the commute as a choreographed dance; rather than a battery of two second drag races, tailgating, tire screeching, or a selfish mess?
I think Karma Called in sick today...
This post first appeared on Doodle In The Margins - Mat Calica, please read the originial post: here
