Here's your sign..

...that you really, really need to think about turning in that driver's license.

It's when you're doing one of two things. You're either sitting a stop sign, waiting to turn left on a four-lane, divided highway. There's a woman in spandex and a bright red jacket on a road bike across the road, but she's gotten there after you, and so she waits. For you. But so do you. And you wait. And wait.

Or, in the second scenario, you're driving on said four-lane divided highway, pull into the left turn lane, since you want to, you know, make a left turn. You look to your right, only to find a bright red car there, waiting at a stop sign to turn left onto the highway you're about to leave. And on your left is a short woman, still in spandex and a bright red jacket, on a bike. She's also at a stop sign, and she's waiting. For you. But you don't know what to do, so you wait.

So there you both are. You're waiting, since you're not sure what to do. I mean, it was complicated enough to make a left turn with a second car also wanting to make a left turn, only, oh dear sweet Jesus, a different left turn from yours, but now there's a woman on a BIKE there too. A WOMAN on a BIKE, people. Dear sweet Jesus Mary mother of God, what shall you do?!

Obviously, you do what any self-respecting southern driver would do. Nothing.

And it's not until you see the cyclist open her mouth and say something that looks suspiciously like "Oh dear Lord!", that you realize she's waiting on you. But still you don't move. Because what if, what IF she decides to fly out in front you just as you're about to pull out too. Dear me, no.

But then the cyclists raises her hands. And you notice she's wearing bright blue gloves. Gloves which gesture to the driver at the stop sign to wait, and which then impatiently motion you, the driver in the left turn lane, to turn left. You hesitate. The motioning continues, and so you, very, very slowly, just like your momma taught you, when she taught you how to drive in Meemaw's Lincoln, turn left. And then the cyclists motions at the car at the stop sign. The car who has been waiting there for a good five minutes. A sharp flick of the hand motions it to get a move on too. Suddenly worried that this short, helmet-wearing cyclist might turn out to be an undercover cop, you finally locate the gas pedal, and turn left.

If that happens to you, that's your sign. You need to stop driving and purchase yourself a bike. Because if you need me to tell you when to pull out and when to stop, you really, really, have a problem.