Dear Lexus Lady,
This event lasted the few minutes it took Lexus Lady to follow me from the Covell Boulevard stop signal near Speedee-Midas down F Street to Fifth Street, about one mile, where I turned left at the light exchange.
Your Lexus was so close to my car that I couldn’t read your license plate. Fear for my own safety made me look in my rear-view mirror. To my surprise, you fetched an electric toothbrush from your passenger seat, and your Lexus also veered a bit to the right just before you began brushing. I had to watch the car ahead, so I really couldn’t tell if you were doing a good job, getting those hard-to-reach places near the back molars.
Mrs. Lexus Lady, the second time that you reached down and also veered a little was to exchange brush for cell phone. Holding the phone up to your right ear, you steered with your left hand, and possibly your knees. I marveled at such skillful, practice movements with only a momentary loss of contact with the driving situation and no side-swiped cars.
Cell phone driving is equivalent to a DUI because of the reduced attention. My attention and anxiety were fully engaged, certainly. My car decided that it needed another chance at a normal life’s usefulness, and so, it turned into the left-turn lane at the Fifth Street stoplight.
Lexus Lady, you pulled up next to me, staring ahead, smiling faintly. We waited side by side for the light to change. I felt a mini-road rage, mingled with sadness. Such a wonderful sunny day after so much rain. Dear Lexus Lady, did you even notice the sunshine?