How often do we not just not see, but do not even bother to look? If this be asked
of the driver of minivan chariots upon the Siliconian Way, also called "the 85" by provincials, then the answer must be: pretty much all the time.
We have often heard ill spoken of the driving skills of "Asian chicks;" but in Gilmoricus' experience upon the Siliconian Way, equal mayhem has surely been caused by the men-folk hailing from those lands far East of Parthia.
This very morning, as I rode north on my steed Xenia, one such charioteer did so precipitously veer into the HOV lane that I feared for my life. I sounded my war cry (or horn) and bumped the armor upon my right knee on the minivan chariot's door, escaping mortality by a hair.
One might think this charioteer should have seen Gilmoricus galloping forth between lanes; more yet, one might think a wise man of such venerable years ought to be found on Wednesday morn in the library, or the public baths, or some peaceful garden, instead of racing forth amongst we who still chase reputation upon the freeway.
But it was not so. And the damned old fart almost ran me into the concrete divider. Mysterious be the ways of the East!
of the driver of minivan chariots upon the Siliconian Way, also called "the 85" by provincials, then the answer must be: pretty much all the time.
We have often heard ill spoken of the driving skills of "Asian chicks;" but in Gilmoricus' experience upon the Siliconian Way, equal mayhem has surely been caused by the men-folk hailing from those lands far East of Parthia.
This very morning, as I rode north on my steed Xenia, one such charioteer did so precipitously veer into the HOV lane that I feared for my life. I sounded my war cry (or horn) and bumped the armor upon my right knee on the minivan chariot's door, escaping mortality by a hair.
One might think this charioteer should have seen Gilmoricus galloping forth between lanes; more yet, one might think a wise man of such venerable years ought to be found on Wednesday morn in the library, or the public baths, or some peaceful garden, instead of racing forth amongst we who still chase reputation upon the freeway.
But it was not so. And the damned old fart almost ran me into the concrete divider. Mysterious be the ways of the East!
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