For those of you expecting a post-American Idol rant, I bring you this instead:
I have a fairly long commute to work. And most of it is spent on our wonderful Ohio Turnpike. Many of you are familiar with this stretch of road. It takes you to such wonderful destinations as Pennsylvania (going East), Toledo, Detroit and Indiana (going west) and along the way, stretches across many, many acres of farm land. On my stretch, not so much. My stretch of turnpike is actually quite beautiful. It goes over the Cuyahoga river and the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

Taking the turnpike to and from work, five days a week, for upwards of three years, means that I see a lot of the same faces in the toll booth. A lot of them recognize me. There are some turnpike workers who I like more than others. For instance, there's Mr. Friendly, a surly man who barely utters a grunt while taking my ticket and my EZ Pass card. There's Gorbechev, who, minus the large birthmark, resembles the former Russian leader. There's Overly Perky in the Morning Woman, who always has a big grin for me when I want to ram my Corolla into someone's bumper, and there's Gigantic Asshole Bastard, who I hate because he always tells me to "smile!" when all I want to do is get home and away from his freaking tollbooth.

Well this morning, a new character was added to my repertoire of tollbooth friends. This guy shall heretofore be known as Shouting Man. "HELLO!" he boomed at me this morning while taking my ticket. Then, when he gave it back to me, "HAVE A NICE DAY!"

Yikes. That's a little more than a girl can take at 8:15 a.m. Know what I'm sayin'?