Bluegrass Mama

This morning as I was driving down the two lane country highway that leads to anywhere I ever need to go, I got stuck behind Nervous Nellie. She drove five to ten miles below the posted speed limit, and hit the brakes whenever a car came in the other direction or a vehicle was waiting to turn onto our road or whenever she felt otherwise threatened. Since passing areas are few and short, I reconciled myself to simply giving her a wide berth for the four miles or so till the road grew to four lanes. I remained pretty calm about the whole situation, despite having left for my appointment a few minutes later than I safely should have.

Then Hurry-up Hannah came up behind me. Right behind me, riding up my rear bumper. I gently tapped my brakes a couple of times to let her know she needed to back off, sister leave a safe distance between vehicles. It’s not like I could go any faster. I was in the Fit, so I’m sure she could see the car in front of me. Hannah would give me a few feet of breathing room, then Nellie would brake and Hannah’s SUV would threaten to ram me again. I could see quite clearly in my rear view mirror that she was a master multi-tasker, able to tailgate and chat on her cell phone at the same time. I found it very reassuring. Well, maybe not.

As soon as the road widened, I zipped past Nellie. I’ll freely confess that I was doing about five miles an hour above the speed limit. Not surprisingly, Hannah left me in her dust. I have a habit of talking to other drivers, and I said aloud, “I hope you get a ticket.” Not vindictively, of course.

I was a bit surprised to see her brake lights as she went down a hill.

Then I saw the police car.

I saw the blue light come on.

I saw the officer make a U-turn.

I saw the cop pull Hannah over.

Ah yes, the police officer is our friend, and justice has been served.