Baton Rouge. I-10 Mississippi River Bridge. 5:00.

https://fr.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horace_Wilkinson_Bridge

Once a month I find myself on a country drive wild ride to one of my favorite places. The BRMQG meeting on the first Monday at 6 p.m. Which means I find myself on the I-10 bridge trying to get into Baton Rouge at 5 p.m. 

Okay, so maybe the "wild" part does not happen while sitting on the bridge, absolutely not moving for minutes at a time. (Unless you consider the bouncing that the bridge does, but I refuse to think about that.) Still, it's pretty crazy to be in fighting traffic to go into the city at that time of day, right? 

https://fr.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horace_Wilkinson_Bridge

Then there's always that guy, in some fancy, expensive vehicle, whose time is much more valuable than anyone else's time. That guy who can't will not wait his turn in line. Always. Every time. I often think I'd like love, LOVE, to get in that one open lane and, not zoom past everyone else, no not me--I'll sit my place in line. But I want to sit my place in line in that open lane and slow down block that guy. I know, it's sounds rather close to road rage. And rude. And mean. And a hundred other uglies. But really? 

Doesn't everyone who sits in line want to block that guy? Really? Don't you want to block that guy and every other guy who zooms past the mile long line of cars waiting their turn and then dips into our line way up there? He's going where we're going. 

https://fr.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horace_Wilkinson_Bridge

He's going to that I-10/110 elevated road that bottlenecks right in the curved on-ramp. Of course, he knows exactly how all this goes down. He's probably here everyday, not just once a month. Still. He could should wait his turn, don't you think? 


Ah, but! I sit bouncing on the bridge refusing to consider the safety insanity of it all and create scenarios for that guy. And every other guy/gal idiot who zooms past. 

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/1c/BR_Mississippi.jpg

Some are out to save the world from giant ants. You know, the ants that are attacking downtown Baton Rouge and, therefore, jeopardizing my own safety. In mere minutes I'll be exiting at Dalrumple and the giant ants will be arriving at the same time, so really that guy idiot is saving me! See there, I am important. So important, in fact, that the one rescuer of the world is right now on this bridge racing toward the stinging creatures, prepared to suffer life and limb for my sake. Thank you, that guy idiot.

Please, by all means, go to the front of this mile-long line on this jerky, bouncy bridge. Here, allow me the honor of creating a space for you to squeak in ever so closely to my front bumper. No, no, don't fret, the guy behind me knows the deal and would never hopefully not rear-end me when I brake to avoid your slamming into me. Go, please! Save the world! The world loves you, rescuer idiot!