The true gems of New Jersey...the beautiful beaches, the sound of seagulls and the sprinter. Yes, the sprinter. That's the driver who has to floor it as soon as the light turns green only to have to slam on the brakes at the next light, which is usually 50 yards away and red. And in the Garden State, it's an Olympic sport.

I was next to a sprinter yesterday on Route 70 in Brick, and he was one of the most thorough sprinters I had ever seen. Zero to 60 in the blink of an eye, immediately followed by the sound of severely worn brake pads. And it happened over and over for at least three lights. He never once considered how poorly his driving plan was working out.

Now, I'm not going to sit here and say I haven't done it. Come on, we all have. It's New Jersey and we're always late for something. You look straight ahead and you know that next light doesn't stay green for long, so you figure even though it's red now, the only chance you have to make it is to be right there when it changes, so you race toward it. 

The fact that it's still red 99% of the time when you screech to it doesn't stop you from giving it the old Jersey try. You justify it by saying to yourself that if it did change, you would have been there for it. Jersey divers...aren't we adorable?

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