My Morning Commute

Tedious and banal as the morning commute may be, sometimes the universe bestows one with picturesque and meme-worthy moments, adding a much-needed splash of mirth to an otherwise lugubrious ritual. These moments typically tear me away from fantastical reveries or deep contemplative meditations. Whether enveloped in reverie or meditation, I’m always surprised that my driving skills never falter in these semi-conscious states. (Did I just admit that…? Fuck!)

Each morning, my cell phone alarm warbles incessantly until—with eyes glued shut—my undexterous hands gracelessly strike any button they can. A welcome silence fills my room and the only sensation I am truly aware of as the matrix boots up is the comforting frigidity delivered by my overworked yet faithful air conditioner. Once conscious, I shower quickly in the time-saving manner recommended by George Carlin, chug a protein smoothie, and exit my house with feverish haste to satisfy my caffeine addiction. On Long Island, one is never domiciled too far from a coffee monger; multiple Dunkin’ Donuts are situated near my home and along my route. O, sweet heavenly brew.

I’d like to recall one recent meme-worthy commute.

Along my normal route, I spotted two large vans—parked in the same driveway, no less—obnoxiously blazoned with names only a corrupted mind would find humorous. (And my mind is indeed corrupted!) The first read like a terrible porn sobriquet, Mr. Pipe, and the second like that of an unfortunate superhero, Doodyman. All caps, of course!

Ask not who serviced whom.