Thought Jambalaya

I think every occupation has its curse—that one thing you can't enjoy as much anymore, because you now know too much about something. For example, I bet hot dog factory workers don't run to the store too often for a package of what they make.

In my case, I spend too much time thinking about words. On my way to work this morning, I noticed a truck that had the words "Superior Meat Distributors" painted on it. I was caught in a temporary brain loop wondering if it was the meat or the distribution that was superior.

As I was pondering this, I noticed brake lights ahead of me (I was on the freeway). As I slowed down, I saw a police car apparently swerving all over the freeway. I couldn't get a clear look at what was going on because of the cars in front of me, but I kept seeing a police car with its lights flashing, swerving back and forth. I wondered if they were chasing someone on foot, or if a drunk had somehow commandeered a police cruiser.

Eventually the car pulled off to the side of the freeway, allowing us to pass. As I did so, I saw a highway patrol officer picking something up off the side of the road. I like to think her hat blew off and she was chasing it all over the road, but, sadly, I don't think that was it.

2 comments:

Jen said...

ha ha. chasing her hat...

lizzyland said...

I think it would be the distributor that was Superior, not the meat. And I think there is an English rule to back me up, but it's not like I know it.