Driving Shenanigans

Driving Shenanigans

The Unmergers: These are the people who need babysitting when they get on the freeway. Why should they be bothered with matching the speed of cars and coordinating into an opening? To them, that’s the responsibility of the right laners, who must accommodate them. Be prepared to take evasive action to dodge around the abrupt introduction of motor vehicle entering the freeway with a toddler behind the wheel. And of course you don’t get a thank you wave, because that’s how they roll. Or maybe they never knew you were there. “Somebody help me!”

The Left Lane Bosses: Watch out for them, because they own the left lane, and they’ll own you if you dare not get in their way. Maybe they have a special license that allows them to go as fast as they want. If you don’t get out of their way, their front grill will get too familiar with your rear bumper, just to let you know who’s boss. They’re VIPs on an important mission, after all, and you’re holding them back from saving the planet, or at least saving minutes.

The Right Lane Bosses: They drive fast in the right lane, quickly approaching cars then darting around them, cutting them off without a turn signal. You see, that’s what you deserve for going only five miles per hour over the speed limit in the right lane. Maybe they think they’ll evade radar in the right lane, because, as everyone knows, the police don’t notice cars speeding and weaving in and out of traffic.

The Good Citizens: You’ll find them cruising along in the left lane at exactly the speed limit. They can’t be held accountable, because they’re good citizens dutifully reminding us of the speed limit. One positive is that it’s a great way to get back at the left lane bosses, because they don’t move for anyone, because they don’t care. Tailgating and rudely passing them only affirms their righteous purpose in life, to show us that we’re maniacs. When you pass them and look to see what one of them looks like, they keep their eyes forward and their hands at the 10 and 2 position, sitting up properly straight, as they ride along like nothing is happening. Maybe their show of disregard is part of their reward system. “Get help!”

The Wanderers: For some reason, they have trouble staying in their lane. They wander left then right, and it’s hard to know where they’ll go next. Maybe they’ll sidle up in your lane, as you try to pass them. So, you wait until they wander right and quickly pass to their left. And, of course, now you’re the one that looks like a maniac on the road.

The Weather Daredevils. It seems like they drive worse in bad weather than they do in good weather. I imagine them thinking, “I ain’t afraid of no bad weather, like all you sissies out there!” Invariably, fools will join them and form a convoy of daredevils, charging ahead, sometimes right into the unknown of a fog bank. When I hear about pile ups on the freeway, I think of the weather daredevils.

The Signal Offenders: These are the ones who don’t use a signal, for one reason or another. Maybe they’re just too cool; “Signals are for nerds!” Or maybe they just can’t be bothered with the effort. Maybe it’s strategy of some kind. Meanwhile, the rest of us are out there using our signals like a bunch of silly conformists.

The Heedless Haulers: Don’t get stuck behind them. If something falls off their rig, and you need to take evasive action, it’ll be when you’re blocked in by a passing car. If something does fall off, it’s hopefully small enough to run over, but whatever it is, it’s not a good thing. And while you’re pulled over to the side of the road to see if their cargo rubble got lodged into your undercarriage, they’re long gone, cluelessly rolling along, singing kumbaya. Lovely. Now when I see odd things on the side of the road, I think of heedless haulers and their victims.

The Tailgaters. This is not about being slow in the fast lane, whereby a driver inevitably tailgates a slowpoke, as a non-verbal message to get out of the way. No, this is about drivers who tailgate in the slow lane for no reason. Maybe they’re about to get off the freeway, and you’re between them and the offramp, which makes them nervous. Maybe they just don’t like your car; it reminds them of the time they got tailgated by a car like yours. Maybe they’re using you as a kind of cruise control; speed up and they’re still right there; slow down, hoping they’ll pass, and they’re still right on your tail. Maybe they’re just clueless, or crazy. Who knows? Do they even know? You would change lanes, but then you would have to go 90 miles per how on the freeway to avoid a left lane boss parking in your trunk. You can’t win, so make peace with it, if you can, and don’t do anything sudden or aggressive, because therein lies material for a YouTube video of you, crazy driver on the freeway.

The Magoos. They don’t get into accidents; they cause them. In other words, somehow, accidents don’t happen to them; accidents happen to people around them. Be mindful of your responses to this maddening type of driver, because impulsive actions will backfire on you. Pass one driving 20 miles per hour in a 35 miles per hour zone, on a street with only one lane each way, and that’s when a cop will see it and pull you over. Be prepared for the possibility that the Magoo will somehow know where you are going, making every lane change and turn ahead of you. If you pass them like a crazy person, they will inevitably turn shortly after that, once again showing you how little power you have around a Magoo. That’s when you realize the universe is testing you. The very best thing you can do is accept it and maintain composure, It’s like a Zen thing. Offense never works against a Magoo. The best defense is to stay cool and let it go. On some cosmic level, they know when you let go, and that’s when you are free from the spell of the Magoo. If you manage to get a good look at a Magoo, you might wonder how a real person can appear so lifeless. If you thought the driving test was over when you got your license, you were wrong. Life keeps giving us opportunities to pass new tests, until we get it right. So, get it right, pass the test, and you might even come enjoy your Magoo sightings. “Oh look; there’s a Magoo!”  Just remember to keep your distance, because their zone of terror is where accidents happen, to others.

The Canine Driver. This is not a driving thing; it’s a parking lot thing. A large dog is sitting in the driver’s seat behind the wheel, poised as though it’s the driver of that vehicle. You look at it and mumble, “Wow, it looks like that dog is the driver of that car.”  And it looks at you as though to say, “There’s nothing going on here; I’m just the driver of this car.” Maybe it’s a Subaru dog.  

The Canine Sneak Attack. This is another parking lot occurrence. You walk to your car, singing Kumbaya, because you’re in another world after getting that thing you always wanted, at half the price! Dogs have good instincts, and that’s when one in the car next to yours blasts you with a sudden and shocking bark that changes Kumbaya to “Shot through the Heart, by Bon Jovi! The dog looks so happy now. If it could speak, it would say, “Haha, gotcha good there, didn’t I, human?” And you must admit; it was a good one.

The Creeping Turner. This is the one who makes a right turn as though they have a fishbowl full of water in their back seat. A turn that would normally take 3 seconds takes not twice that long, but three times longer! And the turn is not done by moving toward the shoulder before the turn, it’s done by slowing to 10 miles per hour, fully in the lane. And forget about going around them, because they’ve cleverly timed it when opposing traffic prevents it. And course the guy behind you thinks it’s your fault, as evidenced by the view in your rearview mirror of a truck driving close enough to mount you from behind. This is not just a matter of passing a test; it’s matter of crossing your fingers and hoping you’re not the one who gets crushed between the two then blamed for the whole thing. Ah life.

The Short Stopper. At first, you think it’s the knucklehead just ahead of you who stops suddenly and shortly, such that you’re glad you were paying attention, otherwise, you’d be opening his trunk with your front grill. But then you realize it’s someone ahead of that driver, up there somewhere, causing the herkie jerky, stop and start situation for everyone behind them. When you finally get around the whole debacle, the culprit will have turned right, or it will remain a mystery. It’s just one of those weird traffic things that would take a team of traffic scientists to crack that code.

The Construction Zone Demons. They hardly snow down, or slow at all. In fact, they might even speed up. The signs read something like, “Construction Zone, Traffic fines doubled, up to 10 years in prison for injuring or killing a worker.” The speed limit signs indicate a mandatory, not optional, drop in speed from 70 to 45, as the lanes get squeezed in by those concrete jersey barriers. Naturally, you slow down, because, of course, you value human life, and you’d rather not become the ball in a pinball machine. That’s when some demon in a truck wizzes by in a blur, as though the signs also read, “Except for guys in trucks, SUVs, sports cars, or that really crummy car with a wobbly wheel.”