We just couldn’t go through the holiday season without a Traffic Asshole, could we? I don’t think so.

Yesterday I went to training. Normally that’s nothing too special, but it’s nicer on the commute than most days because the training facility is only five minutes away from my house.

Usually.

This time it took 45 minutes.

See, to get there, I have to cross a bridge. That’s not a problem, but it’s an older bridge with only one lane going in each direction. Traffic generally flows pretty well. When I got there yesterday, though…

Traffic was blocked up like a toilet after someone who wipes too much. No plunger was going to clear this jam-up, though. I thought, “Maybe I could pass some folks…”

“…or maybe NOT.”

After sitting stationary for quite some time, things began to move… a little…

… but quickly stopped again. I couldn’t believe it! I left my house 45 minutes before class thinking I’d get there with plenty of time! Might as well enjoy the view…

Ah, a nice Folgers-style morning. Good to the last drop. Or whatever.

I knew it was getting bad when I saw that I was being passed by pedestrians I passed half an hour earlier.

And when I finally got through, you know what it was?

A Bronco. The earliest form of - say it with me - sport utility vehicle. And we all know how much I love SUVs. ARGH! Chalk one more accident up to the SUV drivers. Bastards.