Car Flirting.

We've all done it, I'm sure. You know how it is. You're a commuter, so while you're sitting in stand still traffic on 285 just waiting to get home to the leftover Chinese food in your fridge after a long, hard day at work, you tend to look around at all the other people sitting in traffic with you. Sometimes you notice a young, single member of the opposite sex in the lane next to you and since you have nothing better to do, you flirt. You try making eye contact, and if you do, you smile. It's exhilaration at it's finest, because much like vacation hook-ups, you'll probably never see that person again. You feel better about yourself if they happen to humor you with a smile back, and then eating Chinese on your couch with you dog while you watch re-runs of Sex and the City doesn't seem so hopeless and pathetic anymore.

That's all good and everything, but sometimes, people take car flirting to the extreme where it becomes dangerous. When I say dangerous, I don't mean so in the sense that you could end up coming home to a rabbit boiling in your saucepan and a crazy in your shower. I mean dangerous in the sense that you eff up the traffic around you because you're so caught up in car flirting that you've completely forgotten how to drive. This happens way to often on a little street I like to call North Avenue. I spend lots of time on North Avenue, simply because everywhere I possibly need to be is located up and down it. Many times I ride with my window down because I like fresh air...or I happen to be enjoying a cigarette. I can't tell you how inviting that is for some asshat carload of guys to yell, "Hey sexy! Where you going tonight?" at me while they're cruising up and down the street. Sure, that's flattering and whatnot, but it kind of sucks for the person in the vehicle in front of the asshat carload because they weren't expecting a large SUV to come plowing into their bumper on account of a driver who was thinking with the wrong head.

Today I saw something that gave me flashbacks of a little (and when I say little, I mean ginormous) to-do that used to plague my old town of Statesboro every spring. It's called Playa's Ball, and it's the equivalent of Panama City during high school spring break. A car full of girls was stopped on North, every single one of them turned completely around in their seats (even the driver) checking out a car full of guys in the lane next to them. They all had their windows down and were shouting at each other. Is this really necessary? They held up all the traffic behind them because they couldn't pull over to a parking lot and chit chat; they had to yell in the middle of the street. If the attraction from this car flirting incident was so great, then pulling over to the Varsity and discussing how fine they all think each other are over a naked dog and an FO is much more ideal situation.

Grrrr.