I am a girl of many hobbies. My list of hobbies is topped off by items such as, but not limited to, sweatpants-wearing, carbohydrate-consuming, and, of course, people-watching.

My homosapien-observing abilities seem to amplify when I am behind the wheel of my adorably typical, silver Toyota Camry. If I am going to be frank (and I’m going to), I probably shouldn’t ever be occupying the driver’s seat in the first place. Let’s just say my driving record isn’t exactly spotless and leave it at that. Okay?

Anyway, I don’t know what it is about driving, but it becomes exceedingly easy to become distracted while commuting alone in your vehicle. Naturally, I always have my Panic! At The Disco CD’s blaring through my speakers to help me stay alert while on the road. My little car has a surprisingly strong base if you crank the volume loud enough.

Yes, I’m that girl. The one with all of her windows down, one foot on the dash, left arm hanging out the window in a thug-like manner, while the entire car rattles in sync with the beat of This Is Gospel. And, of course, belting not only the lyrics, but the guitar, drums, bass, and back-up vocals simultaneously. What can I say? I’m a one-man show.

While veering in and out of traffic on the highway on the way to viva la university or wherever else I’m going (Probably the library, or some place that sells edible substances), my eyes tend to wander off the road and into the windows of other peoples’ cars. Is that creepy?

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they drive their cars. For example, by observing me through the windshield, you can correctly infer that I am a delightfully happy, glamorous, musically-inclined beauty.

Have you ever been at a stoplight and looked over to the car next to you and caught someone in the midst of a car-cry? It’s best to sympathetically look away and pretend you never saw them and make sure that as soon as that freakin’ light turns green, you get yourself out of that situation.

The best kind of people to catch eye-contact with on the road are the wavers. The ones who are happy campers just like yourself, probably lip-syncing some totally rad track (woah, sorry bout the 90’s lingo), and give you the “nod of fellowship” or the “wave of brotherhood.” (Or sisterhood, I am in no mood to get technical.) We should all collectively drive like this.

Then there’s the texters. I feel like a substitute teacher catching an ignorant teenager grinning at his crotch while he thumbs some stupid message to his homeboys in another class when I see someone texting and driving. Except for the fact that I can’t send the culprit to the principal’s office for immediate disciplinary action like the sub can.

Don’t text and drive, people. Just don’t do it.

Where was I?

Other types of drivers… Oh! The eaters. They’re my favorite. I once witnessed a woman down 3/4ths of an entire cheeseburger in one bite while stopped at an intersection. She must be a human-chipmunk hybrid of sorts. And a hungry one at that. No judgement, just pure admiration.

Stay weird while driving, my friends.

M.