Where Else?

Where else? Two cars parked bumper to bumper on the highway shoulder in the middle of an unlit, pitch dark 18-kilometer stretch of road between two 6-meter high concrete walls, that we affectionately call "Tarik el Matar" or "Road to the Airport". Between the two cars were a family or a group of friends (I couldn't stop and ask, after all...) peacefully chilling, smoking the nargileh (hubble bubble), popping fava beans and peas and crunching chips on a plastic picnic table. Peacefully, that is, with our notoriously well organized and safe traffic whizzing by at speeds in excess of 100 Km/h. Call that comfort and peace? What about safety? Traffic police? Common F***ing sense?? Sometimes I wonder what goes on inside these people's minds, but hey... Welcome to Lebanon right?