Triple Vindication

So here's to another day. Another freaking day in the same dead beat town. Hey nothing wrong with familiarity, right? Either way, nothing has gone as planned. It's seven fifty and your sitting in your beat up Volkswagen. Your spazzing trying to make it to wherever the hell it is your going. Heck, you've probably already forgotten, right now it's all about beating the clock.

You aren't paying attention and someone obnoxiously honks their horn at you sticking their middle finger obscenely at you through their window. You smile grimly muttering something along the lines of "right back at you." You punch the gas, gaining speed, only to be stopped by another damn traffic light.

You sneak a hesitant peek at the crappy analog watch circling your wrist. It's seven fifty five. Your definitely going to be late. You sigh and take a sip of your coffee, you squeeze a little to hard, the lid pops off dumping steaming hot espresso into your lap. Your white work shirt is ruined. Worst of all, you can't remember whether your supposed to dab or rub.

You grab a crumpled napkin from the empty passenger seat next to you and try to clear off your shirt. Too late. There is more honking and more fingers being thrust into the air. You ignore the rude gestures and mechanically stab at the pedal. You have three more blocks to go, it's seven fifty eight. Can you make it through the front doors in two minutes? It doesn't matter, now is your chance. You spot an alley hopping it'll shorten your trip and make a mad left swerve. More honking follows.

Your car groans as you shuttle it past trash cans and empty cardboard boxes, you've spotted the light at the end of the tunnel. You can practically see the front doors. You heart is jumping around and your ready for a heart attack. You're almost there. A huge fat U-Haul pulls into your way seconds before you shoot our of the alley. You feet connect with the break, your face is slammed against the steering wheel. It's official...somone up there really doesn't like you.