I’m a pretty fast driver, as anyone who has had the experience of being in my passenger seat – hand tightly gripping the shit handle – would attest. Wilma, my chili red Mini Cooper, is a fast sumbitch, and when I push her into sport mode? Whew, she’s fun! 

It’s not that I’m in a big hurry, just that I want to enjoy the drive – which, to me, means getting in touch with my inner Mario Andretti – affixing my Aviators, pushing Wilma into overdrive and zipping around like a boss. Still, for the sake of humility, I’ll admit that’s not always the case – I’ve been known to tailgate the occasional asshole out there going 50 in a 55 zone. But for the most part, when I speed? I’m having a good time. 

So, just out of curiosity, WTF, California? Why y’all in such a big ol’ angry hurry? 

Now, I get it to a degree. I mean, it’s like a maze out here. Coming from Portland, where there are four major freeways, in San Diego there are twelve – and just a ten minute drive might take me on four of them! It’s exhausting – and FAST – going from one place to the next. 

Not to mention of course, just how long people sit in traffic here. That ten minute drive on four freeways may take me an hour or more at a specific time of day. No wonder they want to get off the road already – and I hardly blame them. 

I realize this is not my home state and I should really just STFU about it and get out the way, already. I mean, let’s be honest, these Californians see my license plate a’coming, and they know Ima be “slow” about it too. They probably gear up to give me the scare of my life, as I’m moseying their way – especially the motorcycles, as they expertly careen in between cars. 

So I have tried to speed up a bit since I landed in town, cheering loudly to my dear Wilma to “Pick it up, girl, you got this!” as I maneuver her in and out of traffic deftly. I’m not entirely adept, but I’m working on it – and since I enjoy driving fast, I’m having fun at it, to boot. Because while I’m trying to slow the fuck down in my life? I’m all about play. And with my pale Pacific Northwesterner skin and middling driving skills, I’m in Rome, baby, acting all Roman.