Road Trippin'

Can it be considered a road trip if you don't have your two favorite allies or your snacks and supplies?

Doesn't matter. I was traveling this weekend to visit my friend Srah with Gladys, Lauren, Aretha and a bunch of random rockers (they were crammed in the back. The ladies took turns in front and switched out onto the bumpers when not riding shotgun).

I'm a speeder. I'll admit that. And when my speedometer doesn't work, I may speed even more, although I can usually judge how fast I'm going by the shaking of the car. I don't speed through residential or construction zones when there are workers. I'm considerate like that. And I may drive fast, but I drive safe. No weaving in and out of cars, no tail gating, etc.

I happened to be in a construction zone, in fact, and was trying to pass Grandpa in front of me. (In general, people here don't believe in a little thing called the left/passing/fast lane. Normally I won't pass on the right, but I did this time. Bad me!) When I see those radar things, it's actually kind of fun to see how fast they clock me at (boo preposition at the end!). It's like a game. But this time, it was just a sign. And, as I passed grandpa, going up a hill (my car doesn't like hills), the radar said to me (I heard it!) "YOU'RE SPEEDING! SLOW DOWN!". And I did. I don't know how fast I was going (oh, speedometer), but I wasn't meaning to be speeding. Apparently I'll obey some construction sign and not the actual law. Hopefully I never encounter another one of these signs, as it would seriously push back any ETA.

Wop wop.