(NOTE: the following photos were taken this past Friday during an actual, legitimate funeral procession.)

It shouldn’t be legal … especially at this hour … during this time of year.

But that’s not any 44 mph.  That’s 44 mph down a four lane highway.  That’s 44 mph in a hearse.  In a hearse with about 30 cars in the funeral procession following behind it.

That’s 44 mph during Friday rush hour.  That’s 44 mph after your long week at work.  After the pressures of pre-Christmas deadlines at work.

That’s 44 mph when you’re trying to pick up your kids from school.

That’s 44 mph when you’re trying to get the last of the 20% off Fijit Friends — a deal that’s only lasting until 5.

And that’s you stuck in that line in the passing lane … trying to pass a funeral procession of 30 cars … that passing lane that’s going about 50 mph because there’s one old lady in that passing lane who was born with a short leg.

Finally, after going the 5 miles in twice the time you normally do, you see the car that signifies the end: the hearse.

As you get closer and closer to passing the hearse, you suddenly realize that this moment you’ve been waiting for is … very … very … awkward.

What do you do?  Do you look over at the vehicle you’ve been been hating on for the last fifteen minutes and give the driver the bird?  Of course you don’t.  Some people do … but you’re not “some people.”

Do you look at the driver of the hearse … and give em a wave of affirmation that says, “Even though everybody else who’s passed you has hated you, and even though I hated you like 20 seconds ago … right now I feel for you and affirm you that you’re fulfilling an honorable position in society … even though you’re making me late for that awesome deal at Costco.”

But I don’t want to put words in your mouth … so take a shot and caption this photo:

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