Why I Drive a Tank to Work

why_I_drive_a_tank_to_work

Have you ever noticed how some senior citizens drive cars the size of school buses?  These big honkin’ vehicles actually serve as a brilliant defensive-driving strategy, which I took to a new level with my latest epiphany: Drive a tank to work.

Most seniors seem to prefer big honkin’ Buick Regals.  These cars are monstrosities.  They provide unparalleled safety for the driver and passengers, but God help any poor saps who come within a half mile of these things.

Case in point: The other day a wide-load Buick Regal drove by my house and ran over my wiener dog.  Understandable if the dog was in the street, but he happened to be lying on the living room couch at the time.

That’s when the epiphany hit me:  Why stop with a Buick Regal?  Why not take it up a notch and drive a tank to work?

I could see two immediate benefits:  First, by converting our commuting fleet from cars to armored tanks, you would improve public safety (at least for those within the tanks).

Second, and perhaps more important than saving human lives, you’d stimulate the economy.  Increased tank sales would provide welcome relief for our poor defense contractors, who are forced to eke out a living from the US’s meager $664 billion defense budget.

Other industries would benefit too.  An M1 Abrams battle tank gets 0.6 miles per gallon, which is just a hair below the Buick Regal’s MPG.  Greater fuel consumption helps our struggling oil companies.  (Exxon only made $40 billion plus in profit last year.  Do we really expect people to live on that?)

To execute the tank epiphany, I headed over to the nearby army surplus store, where they had a couple US Army M1 Abrams tanks on clearance.  “Two please,” I said to the nice camouflaged cashier.  “One for me, and one for the missus.”

Road Rage from an Unexpected Source

On my first commute to work, I climbed into the M1 Abrams and headed out to the highway.

My fully-armored tank not only kept me safe, but also helped to reinforce good driving habits among fellow commuters.  Take the minivan I crushed when it swerved into my lane:  If the driver survives, he’ll remember to check his blind spot next time he changes lanes.

In America, where bigger is always better, other drivers took note of my tank, and as I’d expected, tank sales skyrocketed.  Soon there were M1 Abrams all over the highway.  With all-terrain capability, many took their commuting off-road, flying through backyards and smashing through the occasional dining room.

Sad to say, all this fun yielded an unexpected foe:  Those damned Buick Regals.

I should have known better than to expect those seniors to back down, or at the very least, notice us.  They didn’t. Their Regals drove right over the tops of our tanks and smashed us like commuting cockroaches.

As you would expect, my epiphany literally crashed and burned.  Tank sales tanked, and Buick sales skyrocketed. Heck, I even bought my own Regal.  You know the saying:  If you can’t crush ‘em, join ‘em.

Photo by D. Miller

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