Idiots Make Me Look Good, So Says the Boss (standard:humor, 905 words)
Author: Godspenman	Added: Feb 11 2024	Views/Reads: 114/72	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
To answer an idiot I have to come down to his level, which makes me an idiot. I have a higher standard to live by; it is the Word of God.

Often, I get agitated by people I call "idiots." I don't have an
inclusive definition for what an idiot really is; I just use the word 
carelessly. 

Especially is this true when I'm out in the neighborhood driving around.
Sometimes, I'm in such a nervous frenzy when I get home, I have to sit 
down and drink some coffee. Often it takes 3 cups of coffee just to get 
my nerves to where they need to be. 

Normally, I am a relatively cool, collected kind of person. Not much
upsets me, and I don't get mad very easily. But driving a vehicle out 
in the world today is sometimes more than I can handle. 

I'm not sure if it's just my age, but I don't remember so many idiots
driving when I was younger. Thinking about this for a moment, I wonder 
if somebody thought I was an idiot when driving? 

Often, on some of these trips, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage
will be along. Some driver will do something rather stupid, cut in 
front of me, and I will utter, "What's wrong with that idiot?" 

I can't remember how often we drove past an accident, which probably
resulted from some idiot driving as idiots drive. 

When it comes to idiots out on the highway, there is no gender, racial,
or age difference. It seems that idiots come in all flavors. 

Occasionally, while driving down the highway, along comes a motorcycle
weaving in and out and passing us. Sitting in the seat of that 
motorcycle is some old geezer laughing and giggling. I wonder if he 
forgot his meds that morning or maybe there was something more than 
coffee in his coffee that morning? 

One thing is sure: they drive like idiots. I wonder if there is a
training school for idiots? 

One time while driving, we had a conversation that went along the line
of me asking The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage, "How do these 
idiots get a driver's license?" 

Looking at me once, she said something to the effect, "Those idiots get
a driver's license the same way you get yours." 

I don't know what she meant by that, and I never asked her to explain. 

Another place idiots are sure to show up is in places like Wal-Mart. My
warning is, you better watch where you walk in Wal-Mart. How those 
cashiers deal with all those idiots is above my pay scale. 

Recently, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and I spent the day
traveling for some errands we had to do, and boy, the idiots were out 
in full force. Several times, we came close to having an accident. The 
fact that we got home safe was a real miracle. 

During that drive, I was a little more agitated by these idiots than
ever before. I just complained from one end to the other end about all 
these idiots and why they did so many stupid things. 

At the height of my ranting, The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage
said, "Instead of ranting about these idiots, you should be thankful 
for them." 

"What? Why would I ever be thankful for some idiot?" That was a strange
remark even for her. 

I saw the smile on her face, and I think I heard her chuckle, but I'm
not quite sure about that. Then she said something even stranger. "Just 
think about it. All of these idiots on the road make you look good." 

I had to stop and think about that one. I never thought of it like that,
and it took me quite a while to process it. 

As the silence lengthened, she then said, "If it wasn't for all of these
idiots driving like they do, nobody would recognize what a wonderful 
driver you are. For that you should be thankful." 


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