The Green Light Means GO, Sharon.

Let’s talk about the psychological warfare that is slow drivers. Not just slow in general—no, no, that would be too merciful. I’m talking about the ones who slam on the brakes the second a light turns green. You knohe ones. You’ve met them. You’ve screamed behind them. You’ve watched your soul leave your body in the rearview mirror because somehow they defy all rules of momentum and sanit

They slow down when it turns green. GREEN.

The universal color for “floor it, baby.”

The global signal for “go live your dreams.”

Apparently, they think it means “pause for 12 years and reflect on your decisions.

But then—THEN—as if summoned by Satan himself, they suddenly accelerate when the light turns yellow and you are still behind them like a hostage to their confusion. They pull off like they’re in Fast & Furious: Midlife Crisis while you’re stuck behind the next red light like a

And can we talk about the right lane demons? The ones who cruise at 30 in a 50 until you try to pass, and then they wake up and choose aggression. Suddenly they’re Usain Bolt with a steering wheel. Like, oh, now you remember how to press the gas pedal? Where was this energy back at the intersection where you took 7 business days to turn?

I am not a patient person.

I am not a spiritually balanced person.

I am a person with 6 minutes to get to work, a dangerously full iced coffee, and just enough self-control to not get arrested.

If you’re in front of me, I’m judging you.

If you’re driving 10 under in the left lane, I’m mentally writing your obituary.

Ifyou’re doing that thing where you speed up every time I try to pass—you are my villain origin story.

This isn’t road rage. This is road trauma.

And if one more Buick hesitates at a green light, I swear I will manifest a traffic cone straight into their transmissio

Signed,

Tyler – Professional Spiraler, Amateur Commuter