Sugar
My little revolution started while I was in the midst of a sugar high. I already inhaled an entire box of Boston baked beans and I was working on a bar of white chocolate. While driving to Miami in my jeep with the top down, I looked at the stand still traffic in the opposite direction on the Turnpike and laughed. I held my arm up high and waved good bye to those frustrated souls. Many a day I’d been stuck in the worst Miami traffic; but, not today. Today, I was zooming just not fast enough for some people. A U-haul truck came up tight on my bumper and flashed his lights for me to move over. He was on a mission and wanted me out of his way. I moved to the right lane. As he passed, he slowed down to take a look at me, the putz who didn’t move over fast enough. I turned toward him and in Miami style I put up that finger- the middle one. Then, my eyes locked on the eyes of the man in the passenger seat and my pointer finger popped up next to my middle finger. The passenger in the truc