Woke up in the morning and slammed an energy drink, then, late for work as usual, hopped into his ride and tore off through the neighborhood. Mary Jane Collins, walking her dog, saw him coming and gave him wide berth. Percy Pendergast, taking out the trash, remembered the day that Larry knocked over his trash can, and Reginald Dobbs kept close eye on his kids, heading out the door to walk to the school bus stop, as Larry roared by. 
    Inside Larry's ride multitasking was going on. A lit cigarette in one hand, cell in another, he was having a lively conversation with one of his buds as to which the contracting job he was going to be needed at today as there had been some last minute changes in plans. An alternate job site was decided upon, which got Larry a little bit riled. 
     Accessing the secondary road that led out of the 'hood, Larry wavered a bit in his lane, which caused approaching cars to slow, and then wouldn't you know it, I appeared, pulling out from a side street about a mile into Larry's route. Looking in my rear view I saw Left Lane coming up fast, until he completely filled my field of vision. His agitated gestures were all I needed to know to bring it home to me that staying in front of this guy was going to be a problem, and it was, as I wound down the curvy two lane that led to the main highway. There was nowhere to pull over to let Larry pass, and he kept tight to my bumper the whole way, causing me to fixate my attention on the road ahead and not on my cupa Joe, which was threatening to spill in my left hand as I was turning the wheel tighter than normal into the corners with my right. He must’ve been able to (again) read my “Why you no get up earlier?” bumper sticker. 
    Finally reaching a place where I could pull over, I did, crunching and bouncing onto some gravelly shoulder. Larry waved to me as if we were old friends, which we aren’t, and flew on by. I could see him pulling up tight behind another neighbor just before they hit the highway, and then after that I lost sight of him. 
     I thought how wondrous it must be to be able to set my own speed limit on a daily basis for I had run into Left Lane before and he had always been going ten or more over, while I plodded along, comparatively. Why, I could shave ten minutes a day off my commute, were I to drive like him! Over a year’s time that would be like getting an extra day!
     Upon reaching the highway I slowed at the Yield sign there until I saw a place to merge, which turned out to be a temporary gap within a pack of cars, all these being driven by compadres of Left Lane Larry. There was Rockin' Rodney, Ragin' Rick, Flip-Off Fred, and Loopy Lisa, amongst others, all of them coming up tight on my bumper with a look of disgust and contempt, only tolerating my laggard pace before they could join their more aggressive kin in the left lane. I was hugging the right lane, doing a little over the limit but the left laners stuck in the right for the moment would have none of that. Doing the limit was for less privileged citizens and these folk were of the preferred class. Unbeknownst to me, special dispensations had apparently been granted by The State, for all around me left laners were en masse heading for their jobs and the forces of containment were noticeably absent. 
Thankfully, I was relatively unmolested during the greater part of my commute, save for an instance when some idiot erroneously acquired the left lane and would not appease the true left laners behind him, instead plodding along at near my pace and instantly creating a rolling roadblock. This developing situation posed grave danger as the left laners would have none of it and would periodically swoop into my lane in an effort to pass the clueless moron that was denying them the freedom to go at whatever speed they chose. I decided to pull back some and create a greater gap so the frothing stack of left laners could get around dufus.
This gave me time to again enjoy my commute. As I watched the left laners doing their NASCAR passing moves around the hapless and terrified right laner now stuck in the left, I wondered how driving had become such an obnoxious burden that people would do anything to avoid being in their cars. Hadn't automotive designers seen to their every need? Drivers now had music galore, navigation systems, power everything, precisely controlled interior temperatures, and amazingly plush seating. Cabin sounds had been so taken out that driving in a modern car was like sitting in a La-Z-Boy at home, yet people would still do whatever they could to cut their time behind the wheel to the absolute minimum.  

   And so it went, all the way to my job, and around town, when I went to do errands later. Just another day in which encounters with Left Lane Larry and his kind were road hazards to avoid at all costs. 

I never thought I'd welcome self driving cars but, you know, when those things appear, and The State says they can ply the roads, those damn computers what's drivin' 'em ain't going to see a difference between the right lane and the left on a four lane highway and if traffic conditions are dense, they just might hog the left lane. And if they're on a two lane road, they'll go the speed limit and not a mile over. What is Left Lane Larry going to do then? Take to the shoulder?