Location: the United States, on a highway headed east

I remember one morning driving in fog so thick I could not make out the car directly in front of me.

It was hard to tell my car was even moving forward—eventually I began to dance to what was playing inside on the radio.

When the fog eventually burned off, I realized I had traveled quite some distance.

I remembered this funny line that went “I tried to catch the fog. I mist,” and it made me laugh.

Another car passed with its radio blaring and I wished that I knew which station they had on.