An Open Letter to The man on His Laptop in Rush Hour Traffic

Hello sir,

As I was riding aboard a greyhound bus to Toronto the other day I happened to see you in your beat up old rusty van. Normally the sight of such an unkempt dare I say, piece of shit vehicle as that being on the road next to me is a tad concerning as the pieces falling off of it in directions unknown, coupled with the fumes I am surely inhaling could result in an early and forthcoming death on my part.

What jostled me from a hazy half sleep was not the sight of your vehicle, but the fact that you were turned 90 degrees away from a view of the road while traveling somewhere in the neighborhood of 120 kph. This is all well and good, you’re an important man I can understand that. Important enough in fact to not only be concentrating on your laptop in a rush hour traffic situation, but have it mounted on your dashboard for quick and convenient use in any laptop emergency.

This handy brace would probably also serve a greater purpose in maiming you when you do one day succumb to that life changing high speed crash whilst also ensuring you get to tweet your last words. “lol in traffic, lol”. No that would simply be an irony too great to come true.

The saddest part of it all is, you, that brace and that busted ass car that you commute to work in every day, will probably outlive all of us. Nearly sideswiping a bus is no bit of a wakeup call, but simply a funny story to be told round the pub later on in the evening.

Some interesting alternatives to using your laptop in traffic, may be firstly curving that pc addiction of yours. I mean most phones can get the internet on them and it’s a hell of a lot easier that putting a giant Christfucking laptop cradle in your car. Or shoot whatever happened to just driving? Just good old fashioned paying attention showing up on time alive and well after a jolly trip down the highway.

I mean what did our grandparents do? They listened to AM radio and they tapped their mother fucking toes is what they did. I mean yeah they were at least 3 good whiskey drinks deep by their morning commute to the office, but they were in the zone all the same. Eyes on the road, Buddy Holly in the speakers and ready to take on the world. Not to mention driving around in a car that could plow through any small house. Not fly apart like some redneck, rusty, degenerate version of a formula one crash.

I think all I am trying to say is wake the hell up. You and your ancient Chrysler soccer mom, death heap from hell almost ended me because your too bloody important to watch the road and pay attention like the rest of the sad and mostly responsible public who were stuck in the same rush hour traffic. Consider this your cease and desist letter before you end up in some hospital or before something more tragic happens like your Farmville goes unattended for a few mere moments.
In summary, you are a dick. Smarten the fuck up.

Signed, your friend

Scott
(toodles!)

P.S.
If in fact what you were working on was the cure to cancer or some sort of ultimate life changing breakthrough discovery, please ignore the following rant. Alternately if you are some kind of Jack Bauer type and you stopped some bomb from going off by keying in a launch key on your laptop while remaining anonymous undercover in that busted ass van.I salute you for saving lives, godbless you Jack Bauer figure, your daughter is so hot. Also please don’t find me and kill me for this.