Of the Battle on Mother’s Day

Traffic

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On Mother’s Day I had to open at work. My family rather than waiting to schedule their party at 4PM, when I could actually be there, decided start without me at 2PM. I was late – nothing unusual there.

Before going to Brother’s house I went to pick up Sister, whose blood-family was in Arizona. Partially for her to help keep me sane and because my family loves her. She’s been around since we were eight-years-old, even the fam calls her Sister as if that was her real name. We were giddy and dancing to pop music as I was driving, normally I head to Brother’s house going south but today I was going north, so I missed the exit.

“It’s cool, we can get to Highway 99 from the next exit can’t we?” I asked.

Sister shrugged, “We can try.”

Within a minute I saw the cars in front of me slam on their breaks sending an unwanted abundance of red lights my direction, great, I thought. We weren’t moving, no one was, after about ten minutes of sitting behind a Canadian semi-truck I realized that we weren’t going anywhere soon.

Hey I’m stuck in traffic on the freeway I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a while, I texted Brother.

Sister and I kept seeing the occasional jerk pull out of the lane and drive along the shoulder. Those cars then aggressively forced their way into the front of the line and take the exit that I was also wanting – in fact, it was roughly 100 feet from where I was sitting in the traffic jam.

“No! That’s no how it works!” Sister was pissed, she hates obnoxious drivers. She began flipping off all the people who drove along the shoulder as if that wasn’t against the law, more importantly to her, it was flat-out rude and thus intolerable behavior.

“Really?” I said talking as if the drivers could hear me, “What made you think that that’s okay?”

In my rear view mirror I saw a car about four people behind me start to slip out onto the shoulder, “Oh Hell no,” I said, “bitch I want the same exit you do.” And with that statement I let out my passive aggressive side and pulled my car half onto the shoulder and half in my lane. I looked behind me and saw at least one other car doing exactly what I did to someone else, this made me happy. The little black car was forced to stop. I stared in my mirror at the rude driver, I’m going to guess she was somewhere between 50-60 with graying hair and a poorly fitted black tank top. Her passenger, a man, seemed to not care at all about the traffic. She was clearly annoyed.

She began pointing, which is quite possibly the weakest threat I’ve ever seen. Soon we began to inch forward, I kept forcing her to go with the speed of traffic. Whenever she tried to move around me I just got more over, but I still stayed in my lane. She had the options of waiting in line or driving into a ditch off the side of the freeway.

One time she tried honking, Sister got even more angry and blatantly flipped her off, “I swear, honking is way worse than flipping someone off. Wait your turn bitch!” she yelled.

“If she honks again you’re getting out and telling her we want the same exit and she has to wait her fucking turn.” I said, Sister nodded in agreement.

For the next ten minutes we were talking about as gangster as we can get, Sister changed the music from pop to rap as her passive aggressive bad ass side got more and more bitter. I don’t think I’ve (or rather we’ve) ever said, “What, what, fucking wait your turn, bitch, what, you got a problem, rude, really? what makes you think this is okay, what?” so many times in my (our) life.

As we got closer to the exit we saw flares on the road, a couple firetrucks, and a policeman passed by on opposite shoulder that I was annoying the lady in the little black car on.

“Damn, I wonder what happened?” I said.

“I don’t know,” Sister replied, “but there’s flares involved. That’s crazy.”

Finally we reached the exit. The black car followed us along the exit as we traveled at a normal speed.

“See?” I said, once again as if she could hear me, “I told you. You had to wait you turn, bitch!”

“That was fucking ridiculous,” Sister said.

At the end of the off ramp we turned right and to our surprise the little black car got BACK ON THE FREEWAY. Why’d they even bother trying to get off so forcefully if they were going to hop straight back into traffic in the first place? We couldn’t figure it out.

“Maybe she thinks the traffic will not exist on the other end of the exit?” Sister asked.

Of course that wasn’t true. I don’t know what the accident was, but I do know that there was not a magical change in traffic between the off and on ramps. That woman was just a rude and dumb driver. Granted, I wasn’t the nicest driver either – but I was a gangster with a justified reason.

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Of Homosexuality and Media

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Lately I’ve been watching more gay/lesbian media than I usually do, and I’ve stumbled upon a semi-annoying discovery. In both movies and TV it’s a lot easier to find gay (likable) men than women. The token gay best friend is always a guy. There’s a crazy difference in the amount of movies about gay men versus gay women – when looking at titles it’s like a sea of gays with the occasional lesbian thrown in for kicks. In said movies, they typically function like the hetero couples, just a bit more flamboyant. An easy tangent would be to talk about the clear stereotype for how a gay man functions in society, but I think we all know what that would be. For instance: shopping, superficiality, hair with frosted tips, and “Hey girl , heeeeyy.” Even so, the media seems to be far more comfortable with the idea of two men than two ladies – unless they are behaving as a sex symbol.

Lesbians are portrayed as either super butch, anti-men feminists, or high maintenance lipsticks. This is not to say that butch lesbians aren’t walking about or that women are always easy to be around, but they get placed on an extreme binary scale. When I do find the rare lesbian movie that sounds interesting, the woman almost always ends up with a guy in the end. And if by some miracle she doesn’t, she still messed around with one. Of course, clearly if she sees a penis she’s going to stick around – at least in the media. This is not to say that these aren’t good movies, The Kids Are Alright is wonderful, I own it, but it does fall into that mindset of needs a man. The films that don’t have the switching teams factor are typically low-budget indies with acting that’s either superb or painfully bad, there’s no middle ground. I’m sick of watching these romantic or dramatic movies just to have the couple you’re rooting for suddenly break up and retreat into a hetero normative world. I want to cheer on a lesbian couple and have them stick it out with that Hollywood romantic comedy happily ever after ending.  Straight couples and gay men get that all the time, it’s the ladies turn.

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