Bad Drivers and Social Workers
Lately, I've noticed an unusually high number of bad drivers. I'm talking about drivers that can't do the most basic things like turn right on red or left on green when no other cars are coming. I'm talking about drivers that cannot stay in their lane when turning left or when driving down the freeway. I'm a good driver, so I honk the horn at these lane drifters. As the instructor told us in the Bad Driver School, "Make them see you by honking the horn."
Of course, Nascar has created it's own imitators, who end up being bad drivers. I watch some as they pass everybody at 90 miles an hour, never noticing the car ahead of them is only going 70 miles per hour. Inevitably, they have to slam on the brakes to keep from rearending the car ahead of them that they have been speeding toward for the last five miles. These drivers are related to drivers that speed along until they are trapped in a traffic pocket that was visible for at least half a mile.
A couple of years ago, such a high-speed driver came up in back of me as I signaled and moved my car into the far left lane of the freeway. He had changed lanes to the far right lane and then back two lanes to the far left lane where my car was. I passed the traffic, signaled and moved my car into the center lane to allow him to pass, which he quickly did. As he pulled in front of me, his female passenger climbed out of the open passenger window and sat on it with her feet still inside the car. She looked back at me and gave me the finger, evidently because I did not instantly get out of their way. I slowed my car down, so I did not hit her if she fell onto the freeway in front of me. The last thing I needed was to be blamed for driving over her doper body after she hit the pavement and bounced in front of me.
One Sunday several years ago, my wife and I passed a driver that was reading a bible he had propped up on the steering wheel of his car. I told my wife that this practice lent a whole new meaning to the term, "God is my co-pilot." This practice seems more dangerous than the routine texting, putting on nail polish or shaving one routinely sees while driving to work in the morning.
Occasionally, I see a very polite driver waiting in a line of a bunch of cars at a red light. When the traffic light changes and it's his turn to drive on, this social worker remains stopped and gestures for cars to pull out of a parking lot on his right. So polite he is. Of course, the people in the ten cars behind him have to wait while he is polite to one or several cars. "Screw you, drivers behind me. Sorry you will miss this light and have to set through it again. But I made it."
Of course, Nascar has created it's own imitators, who end up being bad drivers. I watch some as they pass everybody at 90 miles an hour, never noticing the car ahead of them is only going 70 miles per hour. Inevitably, they have to slam on the brakes to keep from rearending the car ahead of them that they have been speeding toward for the last five miles. These drivers are related to drivers that speed along until they are trapped in a traffic pocket that was visible for at least half a mile.
A couple of years ago, such a high-speed driver came up in back of me as I signaled and moved my car into the far left lane of the freeway. He had changed lanes to the far right lane and then back two lanes to the far left lane where my car was. I passed the traffic, signaled and moved my car into the center lane to allow him to pass, which he quickly did. As he pulled in front of me, his female passenger climbed out of the open passenger window and sat on it with her feet still inside the car. She looked back at me and gave me the finger, evidently because I did not instantly get out of their way. I slowed my car down, so I did not hit her if she fell onto the freeway in front of me. The last thing I needed was to be blamed for driving over her doper body after she hit the pavement and bounced in front of me.
One Sunday several years ago, my wife and I passed a driver that was reading a bible he had propped up on the steering wheel of his car. I told my wife that this practice lent a whole new meaning to the term, "God is my co-pilot." This practice seems more dangerous than the routine texting, putting on nail polish or shaving one routinely sees while driving to work in the morning.
Occasionally, I see a very polite driver waiting in a line of a bunch of cars at a red light. When the traffic light changes and it's his turn to drive on, this social worker remains stopped and gestures for cars to pull out of a parking lot on his right. So polite he is. Of course, the people in the ten cars behind him have to wait while he is polite to one or several cars. "Screw you, drivers behind me. Sorry you will miss this light and have to set through it again. But I made it."
posted by The Joker at 5:56 PM
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