Whose Job Is It?

I was recently on a road trip. Like the kind that last 13 hours and conversation only gets you so far before you feel like you have nothing to do but think. Some people shouldn't think too much. I feel like I'm one of those people. Clearly. Since I've started a fuckin blog.

So, I was wondering as I am driving down this 2 lane highway down the middle of California behind some fucking asshole slow poke who I'm sure is perfectly nice and fun and I would hang out with outside of my car except that he is the reason for this road trip lasting 13 hours!! Don't you just love run on sentences. I stray. Finally, a break in the lines... I CAN PASS!! So, here I am, trying to guage whether or not I can pass the EM EFFER. Barely a mile of broken lines. O.k.. no biggy, I will go the next time. Dammit, there are cars flying towards me. Maybe the next break in lines will be my lucky go.

That's when it dawns on me, around these curves and turns and endless highway at a mere 65 (legal limit) miles per hour. Whose fucking job is it to stand out here on the highway, and decide when the Passing Line Breaks should start and stop. They stop, because you are approaching a turn or something and you may not see cars or trucks or hitchikers approaching you. Therefore making it unsafe to approach. Weird. This is how my mind works. I must know how this all happens. Do the Cal Trans folks just block off a chunk of highway and leave a guy in one truck and then drive toward him in another truck... and then they just decide.. o.k Bob, stop right there... I can't see you, so no more Passing.

Please let me know. I can't die happy until I find this out!