Are you following me?



Yesterday as I was leaving work, and pulling out of the parking lot, I reached a akward car moment where the COO of the company was leaving his parking spot in his posh, carte blanche carrying Mercedes. I could have either waited for him to pull out of the space, or I could have high-tailed it out of the lot. I decided to do the latter and ended up with him right behind me. Hoping I hadn't commited a tacky snafu, I drove on thinking he couldn't possibly be going towards midtown. But he did! Whoa. Well he couldn't possibly be passing up the I-5 exit. But he did! I began to imagine he was following me. Trailing my car in a fit of immature, reactionary anger for not letting him out of the parking lot first. So, he couldn't possibly be taking the 15th street exit! But he did! With my imagination getting the best of me, I ran the yellow light at the intersection and lost him completely.
Phew.