Highway Buddy

We were cruising on the interstate southbound at about 73 miles per, passing a few slow cars, but mostly getting passed. It dawned on me we’d been behind the same Hyundai for maybe ten miles. They came up on a slower car ahead and initiated a pass, so of course I join in. How could I leave my new best friend? And I certainly wasn’t going to let them leave me.

As the miles wore on I dreamt of the life we would have, a Volkswagen and a Hyundai, together forever, weaving through the highways and byways as one. Passing a few Toyotas, getting passed by some BMWs, loving every moment. Maybe we could make some little hatchback babies someday, get a little garage in the hills, slowly rust away then be junked when the time was right.

Alas, my exit approached, and they didn’t put on their blinker with me. Hot tears welled up. Bile and hate raged their way to the surface. How dare they leave me? Just when everything was going so well. Fine. I never needed you in the first place. I hope some Mercedes rear-ends you in the next town. I could have been going faster the whole time, I was just matching your speed to be nice.

I wonder how that little Hyundai is doing. I miss them.