I may complain, from time to time, about things that bother me (ask my family and they’ll tell you that “time to time” means dawn to bedtime). Today I want to talk about drivers in my hometown of Tucson. They suck, but in their defense, I’ve found that the drivers are just as annoying in other places I’ve visited. I drive a great deal in my line of work, so it’s a subject that I confidently know something about – like most subjects. The title may be a little misleading; please understand that by you I mean the collective you. If there’s nothing on my list applicable to you personally, then (you’re a liar) please feel free to ride along and point fingers with me. Also, know that I mean hate in only the kindest sense of the word, as in loathe with every fiber of my being.
So. That being said, let’s get right to it: Ten Things I hate about you (and your driving), in no particular order:
1) You have that annoying sticker in the back window that tells me how many family members you have. Why do I care how many stick people and cartoon dogs are in your house? It seems kind of foolish to announce to the serial killer (no, not me) driving behind you that if he counts the heads in your minivan, he can tell stick mom must be home by herself. The most annoying thing about it is that I didn’t think of it first. How could anyone have expected a cheesy idea like that to take off?
2) You have bumper stickers on your car. Fine, your kid’s an honor student at Mongo Elementary, but just how high is that particular bar set these days? Besides, I find bumper stickers very distracting when I’m texting.
3) You text while you drive. What are you thinking? I’m an amazing driver, so texting for me is no big deal. But you suck, remember? Texting just makes you even worse. You probably suck at that, too. I’ve gotten pretty adept at spotting texters who drive ahead of me; they weave just like the drunks do, which makes driving drunk a little less risky these days. Unless you’re texting too.
4) You won’t turn right against a red light. It’s legal in Arizona, dipstick. Then, when the caution arrow comes on, you think “Okay, I’ll be cautious.”, and so you still don’t go. I wish I could have back the precious time that’s been sucked away from my life forever waiting for you to turn. I’d be at least a couple of minutes younger now.
5) You won’t turn left with a green light unless the arrow comes on. Are you kidding me? You could have gotten out, opened your trunk, pulled out your walker and shuffled across the street before the next car came, but you refuse to drive out into the intersection until specifically ordained by the arrow to do so. It makes me so mad I shake my steering wheel and roll my window down to scream at you (the crank broke off, so I have to turn the sharpened remnants with one hand while pushing my window down with the other. It really hurts). I can feel the veins straining in my neck. It’s more than I can bear; I’m almost blind with anger and at that moment almost want to kill you.
6) You’re a road rager. Why don’t you relax? Getting mad won’t get you there any quicker.
7) I let you in front of me and you deny me the thank you wave I so richly deserve. You’re an idiot, trying to get on a major street twenty feet before the intersection. I feel sorry for you being so stupid and for spending thirty-five grand on a Mini, and so have mercy on you; you act as though my benevolence is to be expected in modern society.
8) I let you in front of me because you’re stupid for trying to get on a major street twenty feet before the intersection, and you prove we both are by trying to cross two more lanes to get to the left turn lane. Of course, everyone else is going and no one will let you cross in front of them. So there we both sit for another light, you stuck perpendicularly in front of my huge truck, looking hopelessly hopeful, avoiding any eye contact (smart), and me giving you the Hitler salute (minus four fingers) and wondering if my auto insurance would cover me pulling you from your vehicle and beating you senseless (turns out it won’t).
9) You’re old, you got here the first week of November, and you won’t leave until the third week in April. You’re not in Minnesota anymore (ten thousand lakes my rump; I’ve been there, and there’s only a couple hundred, even by Arizona standards. The rest are big holes filled with water). There’s no ice on the road. Speed up! You’d think that you’d want to spend what limited time you have left at your intended destination, not wasting it away getting there.
10) Your music sucks. I hate sitting in the lane next to you at the light. All I hear is bass and expletives; do you have any idea how stupid you look sitting there, your Altima shaking like a Chihuahua at a…well, anywhere? I am comforted knowing you’ll be deaf in ten years and the only sound left in your brain will be BOOM, BOOM, BOOM and prison speak.
There you have it. Ten things I hate about you and your driving. I hope you know that outside of my truck, I’m about as awesome a person as you probably expect me to be (dang it). There are so, so many more things I hate about other drivers; It would please me to hear some of yours. Please, nothing about Water Feature Guys in big, white box trucks; then I’ll know you’re lying.