I Want a Teleporter Right Now
It's times like these when the commute sure is a heartbreaker. My desperate hope is that someone will hurry up and invent a teleporter. I don't see why this hasn't happened yet. Scientists of the world, get on that please.
In the mean time, I'm driving like an 85-year-old man in a spotless beige Mercury Grand Marquis. Last night on the way home, as I was creeping along the Interstate, the other vehicles swooped around me and sped on toward the horizon. But I just smiled smugly to myself. Burn up that $2.999-a-gallon gas, people. Just burn it up.
But this morning, with the $45.65 receipt in my pocket, I'm feeling less smug.