Courteous Drivers Are Out There, Be Afraid, Be Very, Very Afraid!

bad ass driver

The Department of Motor Vehicles takes great pains to create long lines for us to stand in to obtain a drivers license. They want your experience at the DMV to be as painful as possible. They require you pass a drivers test with an emphasis on being A COURTEOUS DRIVER!

Thanks for disappointing them.

I can’t help but feel most of you must have enjoyed your experience at the DMV, because you obviously failed the courteous driver part of the test, and still managed to get behind the wheel.

I suspect the Department of Motor Vehicles must have had a busy day (an understatement) and (took pity on most of you), sentenced the rest of us to a lifetime of dealing with the rest of you, and knows they’ll never see any of us ever again.

Because… you will all be the death of the rest us!

Here’s why. Ready…set…go!

I was driving, in the fast lane—of a 40 mile per hour zone. Only miles away from my right hand turn—the only right hand turn in a ten mile stretch. I’m doing the speed limit; I’ve not seen a single pedestrian (on either side of the road) since the dawn of time.

speed racerSuddenly, in my rear-view mirror, up comes Speed Racer. Yeah that Speed Racer! Sans (his sidekick chimp) Chim-Chim.

All the drivers behind him (apparently auditioning for the role of sidekick), doing  their very best monkey see, monkey do imitation; following and filling in what little space was left between their bumpers. Lets call it; six degrees (ah, inches) of separation.

It felt like the Indianapolis 500. Every car jockeying for position to get around me (with me trying to do the speed limit, and succeeding, but only just), as the car in front of me (being driven by that world famous, little old lady from Pasadena), appeared capable of doing no more than 40 mph. little old lady

She refused to get into the (SLOW) right hand lane. However; to her credit, she was doing the speed limit. So since I had to get over anyway—and would be risking additional passengers and certain death, because of possibly being rear ended—I reasoned; let the old bag stay in the fast lane. She’s nearly dead anyway, so let Speed, and his minions, expedite the process!

I looked to my right, flipped on my right hand signal, made my intentions known to all behind me—except those who were blind.

As luck would have it, a blind man (complete with seeing eye dog guiding his car, from the drivers lap) shows up in the slow lane, and who—up until now—drove like a snail. Question; do snails drive?

No sooner do I try to slip into the right hand lane though, and like a bat out of hell, he accelerated as if he were driving on the Autobahn. He became Tom Cruise in “Top Gun” feeling the need for speed. Like a transformer, his Edsel morphed into a jet, and he cut me off before I could get into the slow lane.

road rageI think the DMV calls this rude, or is it road rage?

Once he passed, all the drivers in the cars behind me became impatient, and began to get over into the slow lane in hopes of passing me on the right hand side. As if I were the blame for their impatience.

I saw my right hand turn looming and floored it. I barely squeezed in front of the raging horde of impatient drivers whose cars had just got out from behind me in the fast lane.

I paid no attention to all the honking horns that greeted my arrival into, what they must have presumed to be, their lane. What did I care, hey, I’m in the lead now!

Ah… I mean, in the slow lane.

I’d done it, and just before my turn too. Only one problem; where in the world did this old geezer of a pedestrian come from?man with a cane

Worse, why did he choose this particular moment to apparently enter the crosswalk with the use of a cane. Conclusion?

They call it assisted suicide by auto.

Thank you, so-called courteous drivers who failed the DMV test, but still became road warriors from hell in what will now be known as…Carmageddon!

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23 comments on “Courteous Drivers Are Out There, Be Afraid, Be Very, Very Afraid!

  1. Just put in a call to the Snail Legion of the World (SLOW) – the official governing body of snails, to ask if they do indeed drive. They’re a bit slow in getting back to me. Congrats on winning the Indy 500!

    • I owe my win to tapering back a starch scarf, and whats left of my hair, in an attempt to look fast while sitting still in traffic. Hey, I’m a member of the order of (Slow)! Well, if you ask all of those who were impatiently following me I am. LOL. That was a funny one Paul.

  2. My kids think I drive too slow, but if I’m going the speed limit and others are speeding I’m not driving too slow. They are driving too fast! It’s the bicyclists who scare me these days though, not the pedestrians! ~Elle

  3. I practice defensive driving whereby I just assume that all the other drivers are going to do the stupidest thing they can think of. Works!

    • Throngs of geriatrics, with walkers and canes, have taken to the crosswalks across America and are apparently joining (GPS) Geriatric Promoted Suicide. An underground movement that acknowledges millions of reckless and discourteous drivers with drivers licensees. These driver licensees were awarded by the DMV, charging drivers in possession of them, with the purpose of assisted suicide for the elderly, and any other trusting individual who feels using a crosswalk is an accepted risk.

      • Ahhhh…so the movement is much bigger than first realized. Do you think we can extend the carnage to unsuspecting ,rude tourists or do you think this is an age only movement. Because the tourist thing would be something I can get on board with.

      • No, it’s an equal opportunity suicide pact. They are even considering the possibility of including bicyclist. Particularly those who wear the colorful aerodynamic outfits. This is because they make easier targets, and virtually dare drivers to assist in their suicide attempts I think thiss i going to be really big!

      • I agree. I think the t-shirt business for this will be huge. We’ll have to come up with some slogans that are catchy. Something like…if you’re old and slow, you gotta go. Or…since I can’t drive a lick, you’re gonna fly like a brick. I even like…if that cane slows you down, you’re gonna be in the ground.
        We could make a fortune.

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