See this traffic light? Seems like just your ordinary traffic light, right? Trust me…it’s not.
This traffic light hates me. Seriously. At first, I thought it was an odd coincidence that I couldn’t seem to get through this intersection without sitting at this stupid light.
Then I started getting annoyed that whenever I came upon it, (it’s right smack dab in the middle of my drive to get…well, anywhere)…it’s always red. Every. Single. Freakin’. Time.
After a while, though…it started to creep me out. I mean, WTF? Two equally busy crossroads…the timing was…well, off. I mentioned it to friends and family. My sister said she’d never noticed anything unusual…but admitted that every time we (meaning I was in the car with her) came upon this intersection, the light was red. Weirder still, we’d round the corner about a quarter mile from the light-that-hates-me and we’d see it change from red to green…but by the time we got really close, it quickly changed to yellow-then-red.
My sister was like, “WTF?”
And I’d reply with, “I KNOW, RIGHT?!?”
Of course from here, it’s only a hop, skip, 2 traffic lights and an imaginary stop sign in Kathrynville to figure out how all of this has come to be…how this ordinary traffic light came to be so vengefully hateful of the likes of me:
I figure long, long ago, these lights were living the life of any ordinary set of sibling-lights.
Big brother Bobby traffic light had the usual responsibility of taking care of his younger traffic light sister, Sissy. (That’s a red tootsie pop in her right hand, in case you couldn’t tell.) Bobby hated having to listen to Sissy go on and on about stupid things like the pretty, shiny cars that whizzed by…and he really hated when she threatened to tattle to Mom if he ever actually threw that baseball at one of those stupid, whizzing cars.
Things only got worse in the winter. Bobby’s and Sissy’s mom always made them wear puffy down coats and stupid knit caps with embroidered snowflakes on ‘em and the other traffic lights always made fun of them…calling them names like “Puffy Snowflake Lights”, or “Momma’s Puffy Snowflake Lights”…(’cause everyone knows that although traffic lights are mean, they’re not exactly adept at name-calling). One day, someone threw some snowballs from the sunroof of their car and one of ‘em hit Sissy square in the yellow flower she’d been holding since 1973 and she whined and whined for weeks! This made Bobby really mad…and I don’t mean angry...if you get my drift.
I figure Bobby somehow mistook my car for the one that threw that snowball (yeah…like I’d ever open my sunroof in the winter. Ha.) and it amused and satisfied him for a while to single me out and make me suffer through the two minute 49 second wait for the stupid, freakin’ light to change.
But I figure it’s just a matter of time before Bobby’s gonna SNAP…and trade that baseball for one of those long, grabby-thingies-they-advertise-on-tv-for-old-people-who-can’t-bend-over-to-reach-things and an industrial-strength pair of scissors:
…and that’s gonna mean the traffic-light-end for little ‘ole sister Sissy….
…but Sissy will survive and move in with Bobby (that’s drool in the corner of his mouth, in case you couldn’t tell)…but not before Bobby hooks up with a smoking-hot redhead from Vegas named Fanny who doesn’t give a rat’s crap about cars and sometimes showers the traffic below with teeny drops of glitter…
Hey, it could happen.