Tuesday, August 09, 2011
So no matter where I'm headed, I know at least two or sometimes three ways to get there - the quick route, the scenic route, and the route to take to avoid possible roadblocks.
This is usually a bonus, except when I'm driving with my Wife.
You see, she has lived in this town longer than I have, and we've had our licenses for about the same amount of time - meaning she has just as much experience on the roads around here as I do. For some reason, whenever I'm in the passenger seat, I seem to forget that fact.
It's not that I'm a backseat driver - I don't tell her where to go - what I tend to do is question why she took a particular route to get wherever we are going. (That's different, right?)
Whatever way she chooses to take to somewhere, I'm always able to point out a couple of ways that I think would have been better - maybe better is a bad word - just ways that would have saved us time & gas. (Who needs to save those?)
In a perfect world, my lips and vocal chords would stop working the minute I sat on the right side of the car. Unfortunately, this is not a perfect world.
At first, we used to have "discussions" about the path she chose to take - I have to consider myself lucky that by now she just ignores me.
I think today was finally the day that I learned my lesson. After being stuck behind some slow moving asshole for about 10 minutes the Wife decided to take a different way home. As she pulled off the highway, she passed the road that would have had us home in about 5 minutes - I turned to her, she looked at me, and I just said "What a douche that guy was, eh?"
I should get a fucking medal. (and it should probably be mouth-shaped, to cover the hole that gets me in the most trouble.)