Dear Douchebag in the black Mustang,
You clearly got the question about what the yellow line means wrong on your driving exam, so I thought I'd help you line. The yellow line means that each lane on the road is going in a different direction. So even though there were several cars in front of you, it's NOT OKAY to hop into the other lane, drive around the other cars and then turn in front of them. You see, Douchebag, (can I call you "Douchebag"? Or do you prefer "Asshole"?) I was turning into that other lane. The lane you were not supposed to be in, because you were going in the opposite direction. I almost hit you head on, because you darted out of your lane like you were trying to pass people on the highway.
Newsflash, Douchebag: The middle of our small downtown? At 5:30 pm on a Friday? NOT A HIGHWAY. Also? Kinda crowded. With people driving THEIR CHILDREN around. You're lucky that I was paying attention and moved around you. You're lucky that the cars you cut off (you know, the ones you cut around and then crossed in front of to make your right turn) were also paying attention. Otherwise you would have been head on or T-boned. Then your shiny black Mustang wouldn't look so pretty.
I have to apologize here, Douchebag. I was so flabbergasted - and concentrating on driving safely - that I did not get your license plate number. I didn't get to call the police about your driving, which is obviously what you wanted. I mean, that kind of stunt is OBVIOUSLY a cry for help. Either you wanted to get in trouble for something or you are so completely arrogant that you think you don't have to obey driving laws. Which is it's own kind of cry for help. But hopefully someone else was able to get your plate number. I'd like to imagine that even right now, you are getting the kind of help you need. From that grumpy police officer.
Sincerely,
The Bitch in the Minivan
Showing posts with label bad driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad driving. Show all posts
5/06/2011
9/01/2009
Get Off My Ass
In my years away from Jersey, I missed some things. Great pizza. People who speak quickly. Bagels. Fellow Yankees fans. Delis. The shore. Diners. But I never missed the cramped movie theaters and I cringed at the thought of driving out here again.
They've fixed the movie theater situation, but I'm afraid the driving has only gotten worse.
It used to be that as long as I avoided the highways filled with aggressive speeders and tailgaters, I felt okay. One of the great things about Jersey is that there's a back way to get pretty much anywhere, so this was not the problem it could have been. But since moving back, my knowledge of the back roads has not been enough.
The psychos are everywhere now.
Sometimes they're like the bitch who followed me yesterday, two inches from my bumper, gesturing. I was going the speed limit AND there was a lane she could have used to pass me, but she preferred to stay behind me and risk rear-ending me.
Then there was the person today, going ten miles under the speed limit, braking at each (unlit and unsigned) intersection and flipping me off when I darted around her.
And you can't forget the people driving their hulking SUVs (and I say this as a minivan driver) while talking on their hand-held cell phones (illegal here), who can't park - or turn - for shit.
Of course there are also the douchebags who think that I too will be charmed by the fact that their car stereos can play R.Kelly very, very loudly. I mean really, why would anyone want to play R. Kelly at all?
Occasionally there seems to be cross-breeding, such as when a tail-gater needs to play his car stereo at full volume, or when a slowpoke is also talking on his cell-phone.
Finally there are the people who really scare me. The ones that think our little provincial highway is, in fact, a NASCAR track. They weave in and out of traffic at 100 miles per hour, as though they were playing a videogame. And I swear it's not only bitterness because I happen to suck at any videogame that requires driving - though I think it's really odd that even though I've never caused an accident in real life and hardly even get honked at I can't drive an imaginary car worth a damn - it's because it's fucking dangerous.
So here's a little message, lousy drivers of the world: Get OFF my ASS.
You didn't think this would be about exercise, did you?
They've fixed the movie theater situation, but I'm afraid the driving has only gotten worse.
It used to be that as long as I avoided the highways filled with aggressive speeders and tailgaters, I felt okay. One of the great things about Jersey is that there's a back way to get pretty much anywhere, so this was not the problem it could have been. But since moving back, my knowledge of the back roads has not been enough.
The psychos are everywhere now.
Sometimes they're like the bitch who followed me yesterday, two inches from my bumper, gesturing. I was going the speed limit AND there was a lane she could have used to pass me, but she preferred to stay behind me and risk rear-ending me.
Then there was the person today, going ten miles under the speed limit, braking at each (unlit and unsigned) intersection and flipping me off when I darted around her.
And you can't forget the people driving their hulking SUVs (and I say this as a minivan driver) while talking on their hand-held cell phones (illegal here), who can't park - or turn - for shit.
Of course there are also the douchebags who think that I too will be charmed by the fact that their car stereos can play R.Kelly very, very loudly. I mean really, why would anyone want to play R. Kelly at all?
Occasionally there seems to be cross-breeding, such as when a tail-gater needs to play his car stereo at full volume, or when a slowpoke is also talking on his cell-phone.
Finally there are the people who really scare me. The ones that think our little provincial highway is, in fact, a NASCAR track. They weave in and out of traffic at 100 miles per hour, as though they were playing a videogame. And I swear it's not only bitterness because I happen to suck at any videogame that requires driving - though I think it's really odd that even though I've never caused an accident in real life and hardly even get honked at I can't drive an imaginary car worth a damn - it's because it's fucking dangerous.
So here's a little message, lousy drivers of the world: Get OFF my ASS.
You didn't think this would be about exercise, did you?
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