Just Pass Through It

Last night we were stuck behind a car going a good fifteen miles below the limit. I was yelling about this idiot who couldn’t get up to the limit—or at least within five miles of it.

“Why don’t you just pass through it?” Good Man asked.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“See those double solid yellow lines? What do those mean?” I asked him. He’s been studying for his driving test.

“I know. It means you can’t pass, but laws are meant to be broken.” I laughed and he defended himself, “Not all of them, just the stupid ones. This is middle of nowhere!”

Shortly after this, the man in front of us slammed on his brakes and made a sudden left turn. I was following the two-second rule (or three-seconds, the state of Virginia can’t decide), luckily, and I was scanning, so at least I didn’t have to slam on my brakes.

Instead, I swerved around him and passed him on the right, using the shoulder.

This is why I always tell Good Man someone else is going to teach him how to drive.