![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Week 9: Edgelord
Sep. 10th, 2025 08:28 pmThis is my entry for LJ Idol, Wheel of Chaos. This week's topic was "Edgelord."
On a daily basis, I find myself stuck in rush-hour traffic. The slower we're creeping, the more some drivers push the limits. Anything can be a lane to those people as they weave around other cars like they're playing Gran Turismo. Hey, if you have to roll a couple tires on the median for a second, at least you've still got two on the asphalt.
Yesterday, I was sitting at a notoriously long red light, only about half a block from the YMCA where I was supposed to be teaching an aqua fitness class in 10 minutes. I'll admit that my frustration was about to boil over as I could eyeball the parking lot but couldn't just apparate there. I had no choice but to wait, tapping along to a song on the radio and trying to convince myself that I didn't care about the clock tick-tick-ticking closer to the time I was supposed to be on the deck in my swimsuit, leading the warm-up.
The SUV to my right apparently was feeling something similar. But in their case, their brain appeared to be connected directly to their gas pedal. The more antsy this driver got, the more the vehicle crept forward. First, a foot or so. Then another foot. Then half a car length.
Inured to this pressure, the light resolutely remained red.
I tried to release my stress with a big back stretch, palms on the ceiling as my foot remained glued on the brake. Not so for the person next to me. Inch by inch, foot by foot, they worked their way into the absolute center of the intersection, which only added to my irritation.
"It's RED!!!!" I shouted fruitlessly. I doubt the driver heard me over the blood boiling in their own ears. I imagined their foot vibrated with agitation, held back by this completely unfair sentry.
Just about then, the traffic coming the opposite direction got their light change: allowing them to turn left, which took them into the direction of the hapless creeper. The driver had no choice but to remain motionless as cars swerved around them, giving them the one-finger salute.
When the light finally turned, I drove forward half a block and turned into the YMCA parking lot with relief. The other driver dashed forward, just in time to get caught up in the next knot of traffic.
Naturally.
As I found a parking space, I mused to myself, "I guess that's what happens to you when you're an edgelord."
Although this shot was taken at sunset, with pink-and-gray clouds lifting above a band of gold, this was my best image of a red traffic light.
I'll be honest: I had no idea what to do with this topic until this incident. And then, a flash of satori, as I said to myself, "If that's not an edgelord, I don't know what is!"
On a daily basis, I find myself stuck in rush-hour traffic. The slower we're creeping, the more some drivers push the limits. Anything can be a lane to those people as they weave around other cars like they're playing Gran Turismo. Hey, if you have to roll a couple tires on the median for a second, at least you've still got two on the asphalt.
Yesterday, I was sitting at a notoriously long red light, only about half a block from the YMCA where I was supposed to be teaching an aqua fitness class in 10 minutes. I'll admit that my frustration was about to boil over as I could eyeball the parking lot but couldn't just apparate there. I had no choice but to wait, tapping along to a song on the radio and trying to convince myself that I didn't care about the clock tick-tick-ticking closer to the time I was supposed to be on the deck in my swimsuit, leading the warm-up.
The SUV to my right apparently was feeling something similar. But in their case, their brain appeared to be connected directly to their gas pedal. The more antsy this driver got, the more the vehicle crept forward. First, a foot or so. Then another foot. Then half a car length.
Inured to this pressure, the light resolutely remained red.
I tried to release my stress with a big back stretch, palms on the ceiling as my foot remained glued on the brake. Not so for the person next to me. Inch by inch, foot by foot, they worked their way into the absolute center of the intersection, which only added to my irritation.
"It's RED!!!!" I shouted fruitlessly. I doubt the driver heard me over the blood boiling in their own ears. I imagined their foot vibrated with agitation, held back by this completely unfair sentry.
Just about then, the traffic coming the opposite direction got their light change: allowing them to turn left, which took them into the direction of the hapless creeper. The driver had no choice but to remain motionless as cars swerved around them, giving them the one-finger salute.
When the light finally turned, I drove forward half a block and turned into the YMCA parking lot with relief. The other driver dashed forward, just in time to get caught up in the next knot of traffic.
Naturally.
As I found a parking space, I mused to myself, "I guess that's what happens to you when you're an edgelord."
Although this shot was taken at sunset, with pink-and-gray clouds lifting above a band of gold, this was my best image of a red traffic light.
I'll be honest: I had no idea what to do with this topic until this incident. And then, a flash of satori, as I said to myself, "If that's not an edgelord, I don't know what is!"
