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Sunlight shining through a busy Los Angeles freeway interchange, representing patience, traffic, and human behavior on the road

The 101/405 Interchange tried to steal my soul. đźš—

August 13, 2026

I left Calabasas with the best intentions.

I had my extra-large coffee, my favorite podcast queued up, and my “Armored Patience” firmly in place. I knew the drive to Anaheim for Expo West was going to be a journey, and I was ready for it. I was a “Zen Lara.” I had even traded my heels for sneakers before leaving the house—I was prepared for the long game.

And then, I hit it. The 101 and 405 interchange. If there is a more chaotic, soul-testing piece of asphalt in this country, I haven’t found it yet. It’s the “Final Boss” of California driving.

I was waiting my turn, moving at the pace of a tectonic plate, when she appeared. A woman in a white SUV decided that the rules of space, time, and human decency didn’t apply to her. She didn’t just merge; she performed a strategic heist of my lane. She cut me off so closely I could see the brand of the organic granola bar she was eating for breakfast.

No “thank you” wave. No eye contact. Just pure, unadulterated audacity.

My Zen didn’t just leave the car; it jumped out the window, took a bus back to Calabasas, and locked the door.

The “Main Character” Syndrome

As I sat there, white-knuckling my steering wheel, I realized that this woman wasn’t just a bad driver. She was suffering from a severe case of “Main Character Syndrome.”

In her head, she was the only person on that freeway with a destination. She was the only one whose time mattered. Everyone else was just an extra in the movie of her life—a literal obstacle in the way of her “big moment” in Anaheim.

We see this everywhere lately, don’t we? Especially in high-pressure environments like Expo West. People get so consumed by their own “hustle” that they forget there are other humans in the room (or the lane).

  • They push past you at a booth to get to a sample.
  • They interrupt a meaningful conversation because their pitch is more urgent.
  • They treat the “small” interactions as disposable because they’re only looking for the “big” win.

The “Thank You Wave” of Business

I’ve been in this game for a long time, and I’ve learned a humble but hard truth: How you do anything is how you do everything.

If you’re the person who cuts people off in traffic without a wave, you’re probably the person who takes credit for a team’s work. If you’re the person who treats the “dating” phase of a partnership like a transaction instead of a relationship, you’re missing the point.

Success in this industry—or any industry—is a team sport.

  • The Reality: You might get one car length ahead by being aggressive, but you arrive at your destination with zero allies.
  • The Truth: True authority isn’t about being the loudest or most aggressive person on the 405. It’s about having the character to respect the “traffic” of life. It’s the small, “unproductive” moments of decency—the “thank you” waves of business—that actually build a reputation that lasts.

Read more: My Dog Wash Disaster: You Need a Strategy, Not a Soap Dispenser

Waking Up the Humanity

I eventually made it to Anaheim (after a lot of deep breathing and a second coffee). But walking that floor and seeing thousands of people all “hustling” made me realize that the most “disruptive” thing you can be in 2026 isn’t a new AI tool or a pickle-flavored snack.

The most disruptive thing you can be is a decent human being. Being kind when you’re in a hurry, being patient when the “merge” is slow, and remembering that everyone else on the road is also trying to get somewhere—that’s the real “secret sauce.”

So, a quick check-in for the week: Are you driving like the “Main Character” today? Take a beat. Let someone in. Give the wave. I promise, the “big break” will still be there when you arrive.

To smoother merges and better moods,

Lara