Please Let Me Merge Before I Start Crying

Please Let Me Merge Before I Start Crying

Ah, summer traffic – the annual parade of vehicles engaged in a synchronized dance of frustration and sunburn. It's like Mother Nature decided to throw a party, but only invited mosquitoes and gridlock. You know it's going to be a delightful commute when you find yourself on the highway, inching along at the speed of a snail with a mobility scooter. Your car's air conditioning is valiantly attempting to keep up with the rising temperatures, while your GPS cheerfully suggests an alternate route that probably involves off-roading through cornfields. Oh yes, summer traffic is the perfect time to contemplate life's big questions, like why we can put a rover on Mars but can't figure out how to merge without causing a 5-mile backup.

But wait, there's more! As you sit in your automotive cocoon, you can't help but notice the sights and sounds of summer traffic. The distinct aroma of overheated engines mingles with the scent of sunscreen, creating a perfume that could only be described as "Eau de Exhaust Beach." Meanwhile, the symphony of car horns and colorful language serenades you as fellow travelers exchange pleasantries that wouldn't make it into a family-friendly sitcom. Yes, summer traffic is the time when you truly appreciate the beauty of a quiet, empty road – the kind you'll see in car commercials, right after they've Photoshopped out all the other cars. So roll down your windows, embrace the absurdity, and remember that at least you're not the one stuck behind a convertible with an inflatable unicorn in the back seat.