Stupid Tuesday questions, Carrietta White edition
What the hell. I may as well stick with my Old Crank theme for this week’s Question.
I drive in to Boston on a semi-regular basis. My office is north of the city, and the best route in is by way of I-93. The most direct shot to Children’s Hospital from that direction is by way of Storrow Drive, so that is the exit I take from the highway.
The distance between the exit from the highway and the entrance to the drive itself is at least a quarter of a mile long. For much of this length there are two lanes, but immediately before joining with Storrow Drive itself the road goes through an underpass and narrows to one lane. Because I am a decent human being with both a relatively un-blackened soul and at least three functional neurons, I merge into the left-hand lane well before reaching the underpass, because doing so allows for traffic to flow as smoothly as possible through this bottleneck.
Or rather, it would. It would if everyone driving from I-93 to Storrow Drive were decent human beings with relatively un-blackened souls and at least three functional neurons. Sadly, that is clearly not the case. No, a great many Boston drivers (quelle surprise!) lack either decency or a relatively un-blackened soul or three functional neurons and wait until the very last minute to merge left, immediately at the entrance to the underpass. This process of last-minute merging both slows everyone down and increases the risk of collisions because it involves cutting in front of people into very small spaces. Insofar as I am able, I never let these people in because they had over a quarter of a mile to merge earlier!!!
It is because of situations like this that the Good Lord has not seen fit to give me the ability to kill people with my mind. For if I could throttle people from afar, last-minute Storrow-mergers would be dropping like so many hapless Imperial starfleet admirals.
So that’s this week’s Question — if you could smite the deserving with your own supernatural wrath, whom would be thus smitten? Who would spontaneously combust under the heat of your merciless glare? Who totally has it coming? (Please note that, in the spirit of most of my Tuesday Questions, I’m looking for lighthearted grousing here. If your answer is something like “abortion doctors,” please save it for a discussion that’s meant to be taken seriously.)