Local Driver Convinced He Is the Spinning Center of the Cosmos, Also Late for Work

Area man Dale Pemberton has reportedly achieved a new level of confidence behind the wheel: he is now certain that he is not driving anywhere. According to Dale, the car stays perfectly still while the planet is hauled underneath him like a very large, very scenic treadmill.

"I press the gas, and the world scoots by," Dale explained from the driver's seat, which he refers to as "the Throne of Motion." "I turn the wheel, and the entire universe pivots around me. Honestly, it's a lot of responsibility, but somebody has to be the middle."

Friends say the theory first surfaced last spring, when Dale pulled into a parking lot and announced, "Behold, I have summoned the grocery store." The grocery store, which had been there since 1994, declined to comment.

Dale's philosophy has made daily life complicated. At red lights, he sincerely apologizes to the planet for pausing its rotation. "Sorry, everybody," he murmurs. "Hold that thought, Earth." When the light turns green, he nods gravely and says, "Resume."

Traffic has been a particular strain. Dale believes rush hour is simply "the cosmos queueing up to meet me," and he finds it flattering. Honking, in his view, is applause. Once, a driver leaned out a window and shouted something that Dale took as a heartfelt greeting and returned with a thumbs-up and a regal wave, like a parade float of one.

His family has tried to gently introduce him to the concept of "wheels." His sister drew a diagram. Dale studied it for a long time and then said, "Yes, wheels, the little assistants that help me hold the world in place." She left the diagram on the fridge anyway, as a cry for help.

The theory hit its biggest snag during a recent road trip, when the GPS announced, "In half a mile, turn left." Dale was outraged. "Half a mile? Of what? I'll tell the universe when to turn." He then rotated the cosmos to the left and ended up in a lake-adjacent field, where he sat for several minutes, thoughtfully, while the sun continued to set on its own schedule without checking with him.

"It was a humbling moment," Dale admitted. "For a second I thought maybe the universe had its own plans. But then I backed up, and everything slid back nicely. So, you know. Still in charge."

At press time, Dale was reportedly 25 minutes late to work, which he blamed entirely on "the world arriving slowly." His boss was unmoved, noting that Dale's desk had, in fact, not rotated into place by itself, and that the coffee machine was still where it had always been, waiting patiently at the true center of the office.

Inspired by I'm not saying I'm self-centered but....