Just...Passing

If it doesn’t belong to the architect, or site supervisor, then it’s a Canada Line construction worker somehow able to afford a shiny blue Mercedes sporty coupe.

I believe I’ve seen it before, parked with the other cars, pick-ups, alongside Miller Road west, where they’re jigging up the ramps and steps for that overhead covered walkway across to the train station. Usually busy trying to get clear of it all on my bike, so I can’t be totally certain. As a rider, I’ve trained my eye to simply register, then disregard the stationary obstacles. Drawn back to glance at one only if there’s a head sitting behind the wheel. Driving, today, safely enclosed in steel, inside my pick-up truck, so I was able to eyeball, some.

Just observations, today. Yeahhh, I wanna keep it there. I could…rant. Don’t wanna rant, tho. A rant’s so less than satisfying. Does little more than turn my face umber. Everybody has rants they might…rant about. I don’t even wanna go there. I…don’t…wanna…care. Part of the why why I’m driving. Don’t even wanna wear green any longer. Maybe just the once a year, okay, like everybody else.