Monday, October 29, 2007

Where's the perpetrator at? Yeah, I'm right here

Boyfriend and I were driving home through the night and some of the many, many Arizona roads paved with construction and broken concrete. The speed limit was 25, but Boyfriend drove at 50.

"What are you doing?!" I nagged. "Stop it. When I drive 50, it's only ten-above. You're driving 25 above. That's 100% faster than you're supposed to be driving. Even if we add 10 miles per hour to the posted speed limit to make the functional speed limit, you're still in the excessive speed region. I just think it's interesting that our risk assignments to driving above the speed limit are so different..."

Boyfriend had to shut me up, so he turned up the music and sang along, as loudly as he could.

The problem is that when I'm confronted with the sight of a grown boy attempting to sing along to Bill Evans' Conversations With Myself, the pleasure is all mine.