As a social experiment Caltrans have installed 7″ tall steel plates across all west-bound lanes of the Bay Bridge. The results of this experiment, so far, show that commuters love traffic. Even more than that, commuters love slowing down enough so that they can watch their cars drive over said plates in slow motion, like when Steve Austin was running. In their minds it’s happening really fast, but in real life I’m stuck in Berkeley behind eight thousand cars. It’s like standing in a carny line to see the sideshow freak–only you know that no one could quite compare to the person in front of you.

She is a wild-haired woman driving an old Chrysler K-Car. These cars were manufactured out of tin foil by Chrysler–another social experiment–in the early to mid-80s. People caught on after about five years, but not before bending down and becoming Lee Iacocca’s pony. To the wild-haired woman in front of you, the driving experience is something wonderful and new, and truly she drives like she’s entering heaven: slowly.

Even from my vantage point, wedged behind her, I can see her shiny knuckles jerking back and forth as she makes micro-adjustments to the steering wheel. Her windshield wipers are flailing on high 15 minutes after the last of the rain has abated, and her brake lights flicker on and off like a strobe light. And it occurs to me that she’s having a seizure. A grace seizure. A life seizure. If not, then she is surely practicing one of the more efficient isometric routines I’ve ever witnessed. I’ll bet she has not an ounce of fat on that twitchy, disheveled, slope-spined body.

I’m paying $2 for this show, and that’s $2 too much. The real problem here is that the Bay Bridge enjoys a monopoly, and any possible alternative you’re about to suggest ends up being costlier in one way or another. The real solution is to open up the market to competition. I think there should be a hundred bridges across the Bay, like strings of spittle across an old man’s mouth. Each one would present its own advantages, whether it be fun curves (you know, for kids), petting zoo oases, drink stands, girly bars, and one just for these 7″ plates that Caltrans is so enamored with.

And then there would be a single straight, featureless bridge that would lead directly from my house to the office where I work. And that bridge would be the last thing I saw before I woke up in the morning to get in line behind that spastic woman.