Traffic: God's Way of Saying F*ck You

There is one thing I hate more than anything else.

OK, maybe I don't hate it more than being tasered at a baseball game or having an eel shoved up my rectum, but it's close.

I absolutely hate traffic. I've tried to understand why it happens and I still can't wrap my head around it. To me, it just seems like the 1990 Nissan Altima that is stopped in front of me should just drive faster. I honk, I bang on the steering wheel, I yell obscenities out of the window and I even blast hardcore rap music in order to bother the surrounding cars enough to move away from me but none of it works.

What I know about traffic is the following...

I know that it is explained by this physics concept called fluid dynamics, which holds that, in much the same way as a liquid flows slowly through a filter, traffic flows slowly when roads narrow. But how does this explain situations like in the picture above where there are no narrowing roads nor accidents to limit the space cars can drive in? I'm confused.

Yesterday, I took a trip up to my former high school to play in a pickup basketball game with Peter, both a friend and loyal reader of the Couchwarmers (yes, this was my bifurcation). As we neared Yankee Stadium en route to the Bronx, we found ourselves in bumper to bumper traffic. I made my distaste for traffic very clear to Peter and momentarily considered giving the car in front of mine a lovetap. Then I figured, we're in the South Bronx, where a google search of the area yields $1 million dollar heroin busts and noise complaints that lead to murders...so I thought better of it. Instead, I just tried to give myself an aneurysm and asked Peter rhetorically what he thought was the cause of this traffic jam.

Was it the Yankees? No, they weren't playing until later that night.

Was it a narrowing road ahead? No, the Deegan doesn't narrow.

Was it a car accident ahead? Possibly.

Was it a sophomoric prank by three guys a mile ahead who decided it would be fun to each commandeer a lane and drive absurdly slow solely to inconvenience the thousands of people driving behind them?

Could very well be, and come to think of it, that actually sounds like a fun prank. Do I have two takers to try this out with me? Meet me on the Van Wyck at like 3:30 today and we'll do it. OK, cool.

Anyway, 45 minutes later, we found the cause of the traffic. It was nothing. Literally nothing. Just all of a sudden, the traffic let up and we started moving at a normal speed. It was beyond infuriating.

People ask me how I don't get bored if I sit at home all day. The truth is that sometimes I do. However, I'd much, much, MUCH rather be bored at home than angry in a traffic jam. So yes, a fear of traffic is the sole reason I'm unemployed. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go watch SportsCenter for the fourth time today.

(Oh, and happy birthday to Evan. He said he'd only read if we gave him a birthday shoutout and we'll do pretty much anything to get people to read.)