Road trips can be fun, but daily driving can be a chore. Especially if like me, you have to spend hours every day stuck in traffic. Sometimes I find my mind wandering and like to come up with creative backstories for all of those annoying random objects I see during my regular commute. So without further ado, I give you my “Ode to the Road” aka “Rode”.
Er…whatever, shut up.
From flying rocks, to sneaky cops, I present “Ode to the Road” – A tribute to annoying roadside things. *Photo credit: https://www.flickr.com/photos/whereisat/
Ode to The Gross Blanket
Oh blanket on the side of the road. All rolled up, dirty, and gross.
You look so mysterious with your tire-tracked fabric just flapping in the wind. How did you get there?
Oh blanket on the road, what are you hiding?
Did you belong to a child who decided to toss you out the window when they no longer needed your security?
Or maybe you were used to protect someone’s furniture while they were moving and simply flew off leaving grandma’s dresser exposed to the elements.
But when I see you, blanket, I usually think you are covering up a dead body or a severed head.
I’m sure someone is missing you (and that severed head) a lot.
Blanket, please accept my condolences.
Ode to The Fucking Plastic Bag
Oh plastic bag floating in the wind. Why do you have to be such an a-hole?
When I spot you flailing wildly as the cars whiz by, why is it always my car that you are attracted to?
Stay away from me, plastic bag!
Do you just love getting stuck to my grill, making me look like an idiot as the other cars point and laugh?
Or even worse, getting stuck under my car to some metal car thing that will probably cause an explosion.
Yes plastic bag, you suck. But I’m always happy when I pass you and breathe a sigh of relief when I see you in my rear view mirror.
And I’m even happier when I see you have moved on to someone else’s car so I can point and laugh at them.
Plastic bag, you’re such a jerk!
Ode to The Shredded Tire
Oh shredded tire that exploded on the freeway. I’m so sorry you were murdered. And so often, you spread yourself over multiple lanes so I inevitably get stuck driving over you.
Somehow I always manage to drive over tire debris!
You are dangerous, shredded tire.
Even in your untimely demise, the metal spikes you have inside your heart end up causing harm to other innocent, unsuspecting tires like mine.
Have fun avenging your death, you bastard.
Ode to The Sneaky Cop
Oh sneaky cop hiding in the underpass. Yeah, I see you!
Sneaky cop, why don’t you go pick on someone else?
You think you are so clever on your motorcycle pointing that radar at me. Well just for that I am going to slow down and drive the speed limit when I see you.
But the ONE time I go 90 just to pass a truck, why do you always seem to find me?
Seriously, why aren’t you pulling over that crazy dude in the Corvette who was weaving in and out of traffic 10 minutes ago?
Why do bad things happen to good people!? Dammit.
Ode to Freaking bugs
Oh stupid bugs. Why do you have to be so dumb?
You really have no business being on the road.
Freaking bugs – Nope. You are NOT getting in my car!
If you want to commit suicide against my grill, I guess that’s your business. But you make an awful hood ornament.
Especially you bees. I see you hovering around – making me roll up my windows and stuff. Don’t you dare fly inside!
What would I do should you dare to enter my personal lair? Are you trying to make me have an accident?
It’s bad enough I run from you -arms flailing – when I’m just walking down the street. But if you were in my car I think I would lose it altogether.
I need to come up with a plan.
Do I pull over and wait for you to leave? Or do I just try to stay calm while I find the nearest gas station where I can ask some burly man to help me get you out of the car?
Staying calm is easier said than done if I hear you buzzing around my personal space. You are not allowed in my car.
Nope. Not an option.
Ode to the Asshole Rock
Oh rock. I probably hate you the most. Where the hell did you come from?
Rocks love my windshield. Rocks are jerks.
Why can’t I ever see you coming? I only hear that dreaded sound that causes instant panic.
OMG! What was that!? Is this a drive-by shooting?
No. It was you – you stupid rock.
Sometimes I see you when you are big – but I can’t simply swerve into traffic to avoid you. And you know this.
Yet, most of the time you are small – like a grain of sand traveling at 70 mph who’s sole intention is to crack my window (5 times in the past 7 years).
I hear the sharp crack and look closely at the windshield hoping that I got by unscathed.
But of course, there it is. That tiny sliver of glass glimmering in the sunlight.
As the hours pass, it spreads so far that there is no going back. There goes my windshield and my insurance.
Oh Rock, you are such a douche.
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