The best part of my day falls somewhere between three and six o’clock p.m. as I exit off of Interstate 10 West onto 610 South. People that are not from Houston probably don’t know what I’m talking about, and people that are from Houston will also not know what I’m talking about. What am I talking about? This is what I’m talking about.
As soon as you merge onto 610 South, you hit deadlock traffic. It probably makes most people angry, but it relaxes me. First, I conduct a social test by cutting people off and then waving at them to see if they wave back. I don’t want to sound sexist but, so far, no women have ever waved back, and about 15% of men wave back. This is very unsettling news for anyone who had any preconceptions that women are friendly. They are ruthless, cell phone-toting demons hell-bent on denying men satisfaction in any capacity they can. Here, they do so by not waving back.
I also spend my hour in traffic looking into other cars and imaging what kind of lives the people inside them lead. It is weird that it was not until I typed this that it at all seemed creepy. I don’t stare into other cars. I just glance. If I see a woman driving a car, I always think, in the back of my mind, that she will glance back at me, see me, and drive her car straight into mine, causing a collision that she would be more than happy to make up for by treating me to a nice dinner and a movie and then marrying me.