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Archive for the tag “bad driver”

Use Your Good Eye…Idiot

(image source: wpcliparts.com)

People in this country will forgive a lot of things, maybe even most things, but there is one thing people find unforgivable.

One thing that is so contemptuous, so vile, that it will send normally docile people over the edge.

It causes the young and healthy to have debilitating brain aneurysms, and reduces white-haired grandmothers to obscene gestures and obscenity laced tirades.

It even caused Pope Francis to punch a mime in the face.

What is this one thing: people who screw-up traffic.

Note: I was just kidding about people who screw-up traffic causing Pope Francis to punch a mime in the face; mimes are the reason Pope Francis punched a mime in the face. 

Other motorists don’t care why you’re screwing up traffic, just that you are screwing up traffic. You could be slumped over your steering wheel with an arrow protruding from one of your eyes sockets and most compassionate thing you’re gonna hear from another motorist is: “Hey idiot–use your good eye.”

The incident causing traffic to be screwed-up could be completely beyond your control.

Note: In an unrelated matter, did you know that without transmission fluid, a car is less of an automobile and more of a giant metal traffic clogger? It is.

Here are just some of the ways you can screw-up traffic:

  • By driving.
  • By driving too slowly in the fast-lane; it’s called the fast-lane, people are trying to get somewhere.
  • By driving too fast; are you trying to kill someone, maniac?
  • By never using your turn signal; let people know what you’re doing. You’re obviously stupid, we just don’t know how stupid.
  • By driving for miles and miles with your turn signal blinking for no apparent reason.
  • By consuming 15 to 20 cans of Coors Light before driving your kids to Sunday School. (You know who you are.)
  • By sitting at a 4-way stop and gaping numbly at the other drivers when it’s clearly your turn to go.
  • By making an obscene gesture to another motorist who is gaping at you at a 4-way stop, even though it’s clearly his turn to go.
  • By taking your eyes off the road to text your friend; nothing you have to say is important.
  • By taking your eyes off the road to pick-up the cell phone you just dropped while texting your friend. (You will however need to find it to dial 911 after you hit that tree.)
  • By driving down the road with your seat-belt dangling from the door, making sparks on the road; it’s dangerous when you cause other motorists to laugh hysterically.
  • By having your automobile come to an abrupt stop in the middle of a busy street because your transmission fluid has suddenly drained from your car. (This is your not fault; you can tell all those idiots honking their horns to shove it.)

“Shove it!”
(image source: wpclipart.com)

Remember: it doesn’t matter why you’ve screwed-up traffic, just that you have.

Do you think that people hate O.J. Simpson because he got away with double-homicide? No. It’s because when the police came to get him, he got in that Ford Bronco, got on the California highway on a Friday afternoon and screwed-up traffic.

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The 4-Way Stop in Rural Pennsylvania–The Bermuda Triangle of Traffic

You think this place is mysterious and unexplainable?

You think this place is mysterious and unexplainable?

It was suggested in the previous post that the complexities of the 4-way stop in rural Pennsylvania are comparable to Physics or high-level mathematics.

Outlandish you say?

As you approach it, you begin to feel a queasiness in your stomach. You can’t see it yet, but you know it’s out there, looming in the distance.

Then you see it.

That queasiness in your stomach tightens into a knot.

Your heart pounds.

Tendrils of fear burrow down your spine.

Your palms dampen and beads of sweat build on your forehead.

You’re sweating like a virgin on prom night.

You are bearing down on a 4-way stop in rural Pennsylvania.

The 4-way stop in rural Pennsylvania is the Bermuda Triangle of the driving world. The gauges in your vehicle begin to malfunction. The laws of physics begin to fail. You become disoriented and a form of temporary stupidity sets in–on occasions the stupidity is permanent. The rules of polite society crumble into chaos.

Despite the evidence, there are a distinct set of rules to follow when approaching a 4-way stop in rural Pennsylvania:

  1. Prepare your insurance information before you get to the intersection, keeping in mind the inevitable collision.
  2. Ease your way toward the intersection, displaying cautious trepidation.
  3. Make eye contact with the other motorists, looking for signs of fear and weakness.
  4. Identify the motorist displaying the most fear and weakness, he has the right of way.
  5. Wait for the motorist who has the right of way to go.
  6. Motion disgustedly when nobody goes.
  7. Spend several interminable moments as all the motorists gawk numbly at each other.
  8. Disgustedly pull into the intersection.
  9. Slam on the brakes after all of the motorists have pulled into the intersection.
  10. Slowly put your vehicle in reverse as you suspiciously eye the other motorists.
  11. Exclaim, “what the hell is wrong with these idiots,” when again, nobody goes.
  12. Decide you’ve had enough and floor it.
  13. Push the airbag away from your face as it deflates.
  14. Marvel at the 4 car collision you’ve just been a part of.
  15. Curse loudly…or at least as loudly as you can with a broken jaw.

The following warning sign should be before every 4-way stop in rural Pennsylvania:

road_sign_rectangal_blank

Amelia Earhart didn’t disappear over the Bermuda Triangle; she’s at a 4-way stop outside of Erie Pennsylvania, shaking her fist at a bunch of idiots.

Exactly

Exactly.

Me and the Map Idiot

This shouldn't be hard to read.

This shouldn’t be hard to read.

It happened many years ago on the mean streets of Buffalo, NY.

We were on our way to the Federal Building, mired in rush hour traffic, to pick-up my roommate Al. He had enlisted in the Army Reserves, but at the last minute, decided that he didn’t want to go. He came up with a “brilliant plan” to get out of it. The plan must have worked because the day he was scheduled to ship out for basic training, I received a phone call to retrieve him.

I took my friend Joe with me to navigate. Not my best move.

Me: Do you see where we are on the the map?

Joe: Yeah, I’ve got it.

Me: Do you see where the Federal Building is on the map?

Joe: I’ve got my finger on it.

Me: Okay, how do I get here from there?

Joe: I don’t know.

Me: What? Why not?

Joe: Just give me a minute to figure it out.

Me: What is there to figure out? You just follow the little lines from one spot to the other.

Joe: It’s not that easy; it’s like a ninety degree angle.

Me: So?

Joe: Wait, now I can’t find the Federal Building. It disappeared.

Me: Pick your finger up.

Joe: Oh yeah, there it is.

Me: (waiting impatiently) You need to give me some form of instruction.

Joe: Take the next right.

Me: Right here?

Joe: Right here.

Me: Are you sure, this doesn’t look like a proper street.

Joe: Yes. Turn before we miss it!

I turned onto the weird little street per Joe’s instruction. It wasn’t a proper street.

Me: What kind of street is this? It’s barely wide enough for one car.

Joe: I don’t know. It’s just a really narrow street, with big weird curbs and a bunch of wires overhead.

Me: What are those wires for… holy crap, we’re on the Metro Rail line! We have to get off this.

I immediately hit the brakes and threw the car into reverse. As I turned the wheel attempting to back around, the rear wheels bumped up against the curb. Then I pulled forward and the front wheels bumped up against the other curb. I repeated this process several times until I had successfully wedged the car between the curbs on either side of the pathway. We couldn’t go forward. We couldn’t go backward. We were stuck.

Me: You’re gonna have to get out and push.

Joe: I don’t want to do that, there’s a bunch of people watching.

Me: Of course they’re watching; they’re waiting for the Metro Rail to come around the corner and smash the idiots into tiny pieces.

Conveniante mass transit to most. Impending doom to us.

Convenient mass transit to most. Impending doom to us.

Joe grudgingly got out and pushed. People watched.

As we attempted to extricate ourselves from the path of the Metro Rail, that was certain to come barreling around the corner at any moment and annihilate us, people were pointing and laughing at idiocy they were witnessing. After several attempts, we freed ourselves, bounding up over the curb with a thud. I pulled back onto the pathway heading in the opposite direction. Joe got back into the car and sat sheepishly. It was all very humiliating.

Joe: A homeless guy laughed at me.

Me: That’s rough for you.

Joe: He asked me if I was born this stupid.

Me: Perhaps he’s seen you read a map.

Joe: We were at a ninety degree angle.

Me: Okay Pythagoras.

Joe: Are we going to tell Al we got his car stuck on the Metro Rail track?

Me: We are not.

We pulled out of the Metro Rail pathway and back into normal traffic, and all was well…except for Buffalo PD patrol car that happened to be passing by at that moment. The officer did a double-take that would have made James Finlayson* proud, brought his vehicle to a screeching halt and poked his muscle-bound head out the patrol car window. And yes, he had a muscle-bound head.

*What? You don't know James Finklayson. He was an old-timey actor famous for his double takes.

*What? You don’t know James Finlayson. He was an old-timey actor famous for his double-takes.

Police Officer: Pull over.

We pulled over. He stormed up to our car with a scowl, and a definite sense of purpose. I began to explain to him what had happened, but before I could get the first word out, he interrupted me.

Police Officer: Do you even have a driver’s license?

Me: Yes sir, I have all my information right here.

He snatched the information from my hand as he glared at me. I could see myself cowering beneath him in his mirrored sunglasses.

Police Officer: That’s not a street.

Me: I know.

Police Officer: You know? The fact that you were driving on it would suggest otherwise. Why would you be doing that?

Me: (nodding toward Joe) Well, he was reading the map and giving me directions, and he said to turn there.

Police Officer: Did he really? You over there, Map Idiot, did you tell him to drive down the Metro Rail track?

Joe: We’re just trying to get to the Federal Building.

Police Officer (refocusing on me): Do you just go wherever Map Idiot tells you to go? If Map Idiot tells you to drive head-on into the Metro Rail, is that what you do? You’re not going to make it to the Federal Building if you’re dead.

Me: I’m sorry officer, normally I’m an excellent driver, (I had just seen Rain Man) but I’m from a small town, and I’m not used to driving in the big city.

I wish I could tell you that’s not what I said, but it’s exactly what I said. That’s right, I’m a rube. But it worked, the officer chuckled a little and immediately softened. He gave us instructions to the Federal building, told us to be careful, and sent us on our way. We safely reached the Federal Building where we found Al waiting for us.

Me: So you got out of it?

Al: Yes.

Me: What did you tell them?

Al: Something.

Me: Like what?

Al: Just something. I don’t want to talk about it.

Me: Okay.

Al: So, did you have any trouble getting here?

Me: Nope.

Joe: The police officer didn’t even give us a ticket.

Al: Why would you get a ticket?

Me: No reason. I don’t want to talk about it.

It was a quiet ride home.

What the map of Buffalo evidently looked like to the Map Idiot.

What the map of Buffalo evidently looked like to the Map Idiot.

Hey Idiot–Use Your Good Eye

(image source: wpcliparts.com)

People in this country will forgive a lot of things, maybe even most things, but there is one thing people find unforgivable.

One thing that is so contemptuous, so vile, that it will send normally docile people over the edge.

It will make the most even-tempered among us see red and spit blood.

It causes the young and healthy to have debilitating brain aneurysms, and reduces white-haired grandmothers to obscene gestures and obscenity laced tirades.

It will even cause Pope Francis to punch mimes in the face.

What is this one thing: people who screw-up traffic.

Note: I was just kidding about people who screw-up traffic causing Pope Francis to punch mimes in the face; mimes are the reason Pope Francis punches mimes in the face. 

Other motorists don’t care why you’re screwing up traffic, just that you are screwing up traffic. You could be slumped over your steering wheel with an arrow protruding from one of your eyes sockets and most compassionate thing you’re gonna hear from another motorist is: “Hey idiot–use your good eye.”

Note: In an unrelated matter, did you know that without transmission fluid, a car is less of an automobile and more of a giant metal traffic clogger? It is.

Here are just some of the ways you can screw-up traffic:

  • By driving.
  • By driving too slowly in the fast-lane; it’s called the fast-lane, people are trying to get somewhere.
  • By driving too fast; are you trying to kill someone, maniac?
  • By never using your turn signal; let people know what you’re doing. You’re obviously stupid, we just don’t know how stupid.
  • By consuming 15 to 20 cans of Coors Light before driving your kids to Sunday School.
  • By driving for miles and miles with your turn signal blinking for no apparent reason.
  • By sitting at a 4-way stop and gaping numbly at the other drivers when it’s clearly your turn to go.
  • By taking your eyes off the road to make an obscene gesture to another motorist.
  • By taking your eyes off the road to text your friend; nothing you have to say is important.
  • By taking your eyes off the road to pick-up the cell phone you just dropped while texting your friend. (You will however need to find it to dial 911 after you hit that tree.)
  • By driving down the road with your seat-belt dangling out the door, making sparks on the road; it’s dangerous when you cause other motorists to laugh hysterically.
  • By having your automobile come to an abrupt stop in the middle of a busy street because your transmission fluid has suddenly drained from your car. (This is your not fault; you can tell all those idiots honking their horns to shove it.)

Shove it!
(image source: wpclipart,com)

Remember: it doesn’t matter why you’ve screwed-up traffic, just that you have.

Do you think that people hate O.J. Simpson because he got away with double-homicide? No. It’s because when the police came to get him, he got in that Ford Bronco, got on the California highway on a Friday afternoon and screwed-up traffic.

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