You know what really frosts my flakes?
Getting trapped behind two semi trucks playing a 20-mile game of highway leapfrog.
You know the situation.
You are cruising along the highway minding your own business at 75 miles per hour.
Suddenly, a truck pulls into your lane.
You slam on the brakes to avoid becoming part of a multi-state insurance claim, and the game of cat-and-mouse begins as one semi truck tries to pass another.
The truck in the right lane has a governor preventing it from going faster than 55 miles per hour.
That irritates Captain Chucklehead, who decides this injustice cannot stand and pulls into the left lane to pass at a blistering 56 miles per hour.
So now traffic behind them turns into a rolling parking lot stretching halfway to Nebraska.
Dozens of cars stack up behind these two diesel-powered elephants while the rest of us age in real time.
At first you think, “Well, this should only take a minute.”
Twenty minutes later, you have memorized the serial numbers on both trailer doors and know exactly what brand of frozen chicken they are hauling.
What makes it even more exciting is how the advantage changes depending on the road.
Going uphill, the truck in the left lane suddenly becomes King of the Mountain and inches ahead like Rocky Balboa climbing the steps in Philadelphia.
Then the road tilts downhill.
Now the truck in the right lane gains momentum like a runaway bowling ball and pulls back even.
So the truck on the left has to decide whether to surrender or continue this sacred battle for highway dominance.
Of course he continues.
Because apparently there is no greater humiliation in the trucking profession than arriving at the next truck stop 14 seconds later than another driver.
Meanwhile, behind them, normal people are missing appointments, considering alternate routes on different highways, and calculating whether their bladders can survive until the next rest area.
Finally, 20 minutes later, the passing truck gets 100 feet ahead and moves back into the right lane.
It’s like watching two sloths race shopping carts while everybody else is trapped together like a miserable family reunion nobody wanted to attend.
You just sit there staring at giant mud flaps while your sanity slowly leaks out the window.
You know what would solve this problem?
A simple rule.
If it takes longer than 45 seconds to pass another truck, the attempt is officially canceled.
Turn on your blinker, admit defeat and get back in line with the rest of civilization.
Because if your passing maneuver requires three counties and a change in elevation to complete, you’re not really passing anybody.
You’re just rearranging misery.