Yes, it’s true. The paint is designed to emit hydro-moronic vapors which temporarily paralyzes a driver’s higher order functions turning him or her, in an instant and for a moment, into a moron.
The symptoms include a heightened fear of speed typified by slowing down to 0.001 miles per decade, a sudden fear of heights as one climbs the steep flank of the speed bump and uncontrolled anxiety that one’s front end alignment will suddenly shift 90-degrees.
Apparently, the effects are magnified by orders of magnitude and long lasting if one drives a Volvo.
So, last week there I was in a Major Hurry. Somehow time got away from me and the day was ripening fast; almost too ripe, even for a professional procrastinator like me. As I sped towards Kroger’s to pick up a couple of bags of ice I got passed by a pick-up truck, obviously in a hurry, too, as I was boogying along at a ticketable speed.
Instinctively, I pulled in behind the truck. “Plow the road, baby!” I yelled, “I got your back!” And we flew down the highway, swerved into the turn lane and bounced into the parking lot.
The ensuing collision that would have happened next was prevented only by my mongoose-like reflexes. Unexpectedly, the driver of the truck was overcome by hydro-moronic vapors, braked hard and nearly stopped in front of a tiny, itty bitty, little speed bump that I normally take at flank speed.
Ever. So. Slowly. The driver crept. Over. The. Bump.
(There was a total eclipse of the sun.)
All the time I had gained in our mad dash to the parking lot was lost, and then some, in our glacial creep through the parking lot.
What was wrong with that guy? Why did he stop? I couldn’t believe it. In a truck no less! Talk about adding insult to injury.
Then I noticed a bumper sticker that read:
I brake for poodles.
That explained it! I should have known he’d stop for speed bumps.
He was driving a Ford F One-Fifi.