After our fun bike ride, we headed into Agra, the city where the Taj Mahal is. Very excited!
What a hell hole. Or as Jeff put it “turns out Toronto isn’t the asshole of the earth”
At home, when you get to a four way intersection, it looks something like this (note the red and purple cars are stopped because it isn’t their damn turn).
And you can hear your stereo. Or your car running. Or your own thoughts. Whatever.
There, a four way intersection looks like this:
and sounds like this:
HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!! HONK HONK HONK !! HONK! HONK! HONK!!!
(Also, reeks).
So say you’re me and you’re kinda (very) claustrophobic. And one of your biggest pet peeves is excessive loud noises. And your biggest anxiety-causing issue is that you might have “tummy troubles” when you’re trapped. In a noisy place. And you get “tummy troubles” a lot. And even though you can’t hear, you feel your stomach make this noise:
YEEEERRRRRRROOOOOOORRRRRGGGGGGGGH
me: ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod
I start squirming, sweating and writhing in my seat. Then I start to cry. And you know what makes it better?
jeff: calm down
FUCKOFFFUCKOFFFUCKOFF.
Worst (and longest) car ride of my life.
We managed to “avoid disaster” by stopping at a place I am now trying to banish from my memory, so please don’t believe Jeff when he tries to tell you “Lara saw the Taj Mahal and shit her pants”.
