Letter to My Slug

Every now and again a slug takes a seat in my car and does something that earns him or her a name. Stinky Guy. Abortion Lady. Oh Shit Bar Dude.

Today was a very special day because the gentleman who sat in the front seat earned many a name. Of course, I’m sure I earned a name in both slug’s minds because I failed miserably at maintaining a straight face. Giggles escaped my mouth and I wore a permanent shit eating grin. I had to read road signs to distract myself because today’s slug just kept adding new things to his name.

What did he do you ask? Well, I decided I’d write him a letter. Let’s see how it turns out.

Dear Mr. Clickity Clears Throat,

I appreciate your decision to join me on my journey into Washington D.C. today. Without you, my commute would be long and arduous. Okay, more long and more arduous.

Now that I’ve dropped you at your destination, there are a few things I’d like to take the time to point out. Do you have a few minutes? Sure you do, this is a letter. Sit back, relax and for Heaven’s sake, put that damn clickity phone away.

What’s that you ask? It’s your blackberry, buddy. It’s clickity. You never stopped typing on it. My low-playing music was accompanied by click, click-click, click-click-click-click, click. Quite annoying if I do say so myself.

Don’t throw stones in a glass house you say? Well, I have a touch-screen. Ever heard of one? I suggest, with the amount of time you spend on your phone, you invest in one. Put it in “Silent Mode” and you’ll never hear me complain again.

Now that I’ve addressed your cell phone usage, I’d like to ask how the ride was for you. Was it too cold? Too hot? Did you need more air, less? I don’t know, but what I do know is that you were not comfortable.

Every couple of minutes you’d adjust the air conditioning vent and clear your throat. I was unsure whether I was supposed to take your bodily function as some sort of grunting language or not, but I grew more and more agitated by not being able to please you.

I speak English. I’m positive you do, too, but I was wondering if “eh-hem” was a language growing in popularity or not. Maybe you were speaking things to me in your head and you were sure they’d come across loud and clear in your clearing of your throat, but they did not.

So now here’s how one of my favorite songs sounded. Wild, click, click-click, horses, click, eh-hem, couldn’t, vent squeak, click, drag me, click-click, away, power seat adjuster, wild wild, click-click-click-click, horses, eh-hem, vent squeak.

If my music bothered you, I’m sorry. I had to keep turning it up to drown out your clickity clears throating.

If it was something else bothering you, you could have asked me to make an adjustment. I am always happy to help out when I can. We are in this commuting thing together, we should both be comfortable.

I hope you’ll consider these things before you take a seat in my car again.

Sincerely,

Click-click
Aggravated Driver