Strange as it may seem, this life is based on a true story." - Ashleigh Brilliant
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June 2003 July 2003 August 2003 September 2003 October 2003 November 2003 December 2003 January 2004 February 2004 March 2004 April 2004 May 2004 June 2004 July 2004 August 2004 September 2004 October 2004 November 2004 December 2004 January 2005 February 2005 March 2005 April 2005 May 2005 June 2005 July 2005 August 2005 September 2005 October 2005 November 2005 December 2005 January 2006 February 2006 March 2006
Friday, May 21, 2004
For fuck's sake. People you must believe me when I tell you that Baton Rouge has the worst drivers. I know everyone thinks that about where they live, but I promise you, that's only because you've never driven here for an extended period of time.
I'm a good driver, and I'm not some schmuck on the road who thinks that and still drives like a fuckwad. I've never had a speeding ticket, never been in an accident and never talk on my cell phone and drive. When I'm driving, I'm driving and paying attention to the task at hand.
Yet this seems to draw every doing-everything-but-driving-moron to me like a magnet. I almost got hit twice coming home from work today. Twice, and by no fault of my own. When I arrived (somehow) safely at my destination, I was a shaking, furious mess. Even a cigarette couldn't quell the shaking - but it did help with the anger, and then I started crying. I'm going to have to move out of Baton Rouge simply because driving around here is gonig to kill me! And not in the way you may think - most likely in the form of spending the rest of my life in prison after beating the idiot who hits my car to death.
I am sitting at a four-way stop. I start to go. As I begin to cross the intersection, a huge pick-up truck comes at me from the right. At the time, he swung out so far to prepare for his right turn, I thought he just didn't see me and was going to hit me. As it was, he stopped as he was supposed to but was already so far out into the intersection that I had to swerve in the other lane to avoid his knocking the side of my car.
I calmed down and continued my commute. Not too bad, I figured. Just some jerk who pulled out too far.
I was almost home, sitting at the light on the off-ramp behind an Escalade with Dumb Rich White Lady in it. There's only one left turn lane here, so as the light turns green, DRWL procedes to turn at the pace of molasses. When we get onto the road, she is straddling both lanes, then slowly veers over to the left lane. I waited a second to make sure she was going to stay there, then continued turning into and going down the right lane. A few paces down she decides she'd rather be in the right lane and begins just slowly veering over into it - no blinker or anything, just coming right on over. The bomp-bomp-booooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmp of my horn might've have been a hint to more intelligent drivers that they were about to hit someone; not DRWL, though. And she sure as hell was about to hit me - I honestly still don't know how she didn't, because when she started coming over, my front end was about even with the center of her ugly Escalade. Thankfully for Stella and I, DRWL apparently drives like molasses all of the time and I was spared from being knocked off the road by some rich, white bitch who wasn't paying attention to what she was doing. I was livid - and scared. I don't usually get too scared, as I'm usually expecting people to do dumb shit and am prepared - and I'd even kept in mind that she likely might swerve over into my lane, but it was still too close for comfort.
I don't understand. What in the hell are people doing when they're supposed to be driving? I realize that half of them, as anyone can plainly see, are more interested in their cell phone convo's than the road, but what about the ones that aren't on the phone and still aren't driving worth a damn?! There is not a DAY that passes that I don't see someone do something incredibly stupid and dangerous. Not one day - and, folks, I don't drive that much. 15 mins to work, and 15 mins back is about it. Other times we go out, Baret is the one driving and I'm trying not to pay too much attention because it just stresses me out too much.
I can understand blindspots and making mistakes, but unlike the woman in the Beetle a few weeks ago, and this dumb bitch this evening - when I hear someone laying on their horn as I'm changing lanes, I'm going to swerve back and look at where I'm going. I'm sure as hell not going to keep on coming over! What are they thinking: "Oh, they can stop" or "How dare they not let me in?!" Sometimes a blaring horn may be a signal that there is someone in the path you're moving into who can't stop! This is not rocket science. In fact, it's very simple: I'm not honking at you because I feel like you're cutting me off or because I don't want to let you in - I'm honking because you are about to hit MY CAR!! Hel-fucking-lo?!
Deep breaths. Deep breaths and another swig of beer.
There is nothing on the face of the earth that I despise right now more than bad drivers.
But I do feel better for letting that all out. Thank you.