I had to drive through Denver on my way. A fender-bender closed four lanes of traffic (I have no idea how they managed that) and backed up traffic for a good hour. This mountain girl was feeling pretty claustrophobic. Then, I saw him...
He was watching the traffic start and stop with the "I'm watching but I'm only half interested" look only a mule can have. His head would occasionally vanish only to pop back with a new mouthful of hay. I wished I could just hop on his back, weave through all those stopped cars and head for the hills. He made me laugh and feel a little more at home in that big 'ol city.
Yesterday, when driving through "The Park" (as everyone calls it), the mule came to my mind as a great herd of buffalo backed up paranoid tourists, undoubtedly chuckling under their buffalo beards at the chaos they were creating. I punched my steering wheel and wished someone would just drive through the herd - they WILL move, folks.
But then I had to stop and give thanks that this is the only traffic issue I face on any sort of regular basis.
So I grabbed a snack and tried to look disinterested like my friend mule.
I'll take tourist rage over road rage any day.