You find them everywhere, roaming around like they just don’t care. Often assuming that they are the greatest thing to have walked the earth, the greatest gift to mankind. Well if they are a gift then could I have the receipt please, maybe they could be exchanged for a better piece, if a refund ain’t possible.
They go around like they own the streets, they own the road, as if they are the king of the road. Following rules is so beneath them, rules ain’t meant for them, not applicable to them. The road is their formula one, motor GP track, and they are future Michael Schumacher, Lewis Hamilton, Danica Patrick and Rossi, speed demons, who have a need for speed.
Helmets were not made for them, cause how do you give them something that would spoil their appearance, a tool that could drive them bald, a conspiracy by those who are jealous of their looks. So you will find them on the wrong side of the road, helmetless, at times three on a poor two- wheeler that has to bear their weight, talking on their phone, jumping signals, trying to cut lanes.
They love their horns more than anything in this world, or so it may seem, blasting it every single opportunity, as if each blast gives them some sort of orgasmic release. They are always in a high, a high beam that is, almost blinding the poor oncoming traffic with their headlights in high beam. Thus making it their mission of making their fellow motorists deaf with the blairing of their horn, blind from their headlight.
And should you chance to find yourself in front of one of these, beware, be prepared, just give them way. They will blast their horns, and give you icy glares, till you give them what they feel is rightfully theirs. How dare you block their way, how dare you?
So if you chance to come across one of these creatures, which you very likely will, take a deep breath and stay calm, cause loosing it will do you more harm, cause they will remain the morons that they are.
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