morning drive.

Aside from the traffic, I love Colorado roadways for one reason: people watching. I've never seen more people booger-snatching, bouncing around and singing, MOWing down on cheeseburgers, burning one down and just generally being socially abnormal. On the mornings that I'd rather be doing a million other things than getting in my car and hopping on the freeway (i.e. every morning), these people help to lighten my mood.

Last night I was sitting at a stop light and did the whole look-at-someone-until-they-look-at-you thing to a guy who had a gnarly scar across his mouth (like the joker). While I was studying his face, I was formulating every single scenario I could to explain what happened to him ranging from a cat scratch (ruled out by the size of the scar) to a combat fight in Vietnam or Korea or Detroit to a real-life version of The Fight Club to a domestic dispute in which his ladyfriend kicked his ass, then took one of her heels to his face (sometime my imagination gets the best of me). Naturally my reflexes didn't match his, so before I could pretend like nothing happened, he was smiling and waving at me. Oh God. I gave him a half-ass smile, then thanked the Lawd for the green light to turn left and get the hellouttathere. I'm sure he's gotten used to people staring at him, but that doesn't make me any less embarrassed to be ranked among the masses in the gawker category. Point: Scar man. I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't let people see me stare anymore, which brings me to this morning...

Sitting at yet another stop light, I looked over to see a guy sitting in a Jeep covered in stickers announcing to the world that the guy driving is a complete weirdo. Whywhywhy do people think they need to do this? It's not like I'm throwing a "Warning: Cat-lady in the driver's seat" sticker on the back of my wheelz any time soon for obvious reasons: I don't actively seek judgement. Seeing a sticker that says "God Bless the Freaks" makes me cringe. I don't know anyone who would read that and think to themselves, sweeeeet there's a freak driving that car and good news, God is blessing him. Then again, maybe the people I know are too normal. I should step outside my box. Anyway, all tangents aside, my point is that this time, I was stealth enough to nab a picture of this guy's car. And believe me, I felt as proud as I did on the day I was able to ride my bike without training wheels. Clearly my next step is to become a CIA agent.

I think I sense a new goal in the works...