I feel like I’m in a school of fish, darting in and out, weaving through the other fish, occasionally getting slapped by someone’s flipper. And with gas prices in California now up to $4.25, I’ve started seeing a huge increase in the amount of people commuting by motorcycle. I swear, they’re everywhere now. They’re like pilot fish. The cars are the sharks and the motorcycles are the Remora. There’s, like, four for every car.
They drift just behind you or hang in your blind spot, and then, as soon as the traffic slows for a stop light, they all dart forward and move to the front of the line and the next big fish to lurk behind.
It’s nerve wracking.
But almost everyday there’s one pilot fish that makes me smile. There’s this little old lady who drives a scooter to work…
She wears purple pants, a matching purple jacket and a purple helmet. She looks to be about 55 to 60 and she’s fearless! I don’t know how she does it. All those cars racing around her, accidents swiping vehicles to the side of the road like giant grizzly paws swiping salmon outta the stream. I grip the steering wheel with white knuckles and she putts down the street in her own little bubble of bliss. I’m a ball of nerves by the time I get home. I seriously don’t know how she does it.
However she manages to stay on her scooter, I applaud her. I smile to myself every time I see her.
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