I’m killing time before a late lunch with WAY too many people to suit me, so I’ll take a moment to vent about the drivers I regularly encounter on the 5-minute highway stretch I drive to get to work. This seems appropriate, as I ran across at least four drivers this morning who obviously wanted to my head to explode.
In this listing of crap drivers, we’ll start with most common and mundane and work our way up. Here we go…
- talking on the phone
- smoking, eating fries, balancing a drink, AND talking on the phone at the same time
- putting on makeup
- shaving with an electric razor
- turned around to deal with a fussy toddler in a carseat
Just plain anoying drivers
- people who refuse to allow anyone into the line in a traffic jam
- the jerk who races to the front of a lane containing a long line of cars, when the other lane is about to be closed
- the fools who let that jerk in when he races to the front of that line of cars (and yes, that jerk is pretty much always a guy)
- the old dear whose head barely clears the steering wheel in his Buick, wearing cataract-surgery sunglasses and a felt hat, with his wife in the back seat sporting a rain bonnet, and who is capable of pushing his block-long sedan only up to 10 mph below whatever the posted speed limit might be.
Runner-up in the worst driver category
The overly cautious driver who has never learned that the on-ramp to a highway is intended for GETTING UP TO HIGHWAY SPEED. If you’re attempting to get into a 65-mile / hour lane, piddling along at 40 mph until the merge lane is clear for a mile is NOT the way to do it. Please find your way to your garage/carport/parking area as quickly as possible and leave your car there permanently.
And the granddady of imbecile drivers
The guy who knows he’s going to exit in five miles or so, and tools down the right lane at 20 miles / hour under the speed limit in order to prepare. Because cars don’t have, you know, like brakes or anything for slowing down from normal highway speed when you want to exit.
Thank you, and good day.