That's not really my car, but that's to give you an idea of my way to work this fine Tuesday morning. To paint the picture for you, I'm in my car heading to work northbound on the tri-state near O'hare. The right lane I'm in is ending within the next 200 feet, and there's an open space in between two semi's, so I fit in with a decent amount of space. So as I'm sitting there waiting to move as the tri-state is in it's usual stop-go 5mph mode, I have no space to move forward, but the semi behind me felt it necessary to keep a move on, with me cooperating or not. The first time he hits me, I don't know what's happening other then to say WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?! The second time he hits me, it's quickly feeling like the garbage compactor in Star Wars Episode IV.
Stupid me just keeps yelling FUCK!!!!!!!! instead of laying on the horn. Sometimes the only thing you think of is what the fuck is going on, and yell the same sentiment very loudly. Finally, the dipshit behind me realizes that strange weight he's feeling in front of him, is indeed, a fucking car. Now, I've never driven a semi, but wouldn't you fucking figure out the first time you hit something you'd feel that? And maybe even go so far as to think, did I bump something? Maybe I should wait. You know, on second thought, fuck it. I'll just a keep a move-on back to Plainfield, WI. Let's face it. You're surrounded by compact cars. If you feel a bump while trying to accelerate, for future reference: Just wait. You're not getting anywhere anytime soon with traffic conditions the way there are. You may realize that something is there, and you wont have to be up to your neck in cheese and shit when you get back to Wisconsin.
Fuck, I am not pleased. A fine morning indeed. More anger and the use of the word fuck to follow.
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