The 10 People You Will Encounter On Your Commute
If you’re in LA or a town of a similar 7th circle of driving hell, you understand that you sold your soul the minute you bought a vehicle. You go through all this testing hullabaloo for the ability to chauffeur yourself around town, and it rarely seems worth it in the end. The road is a hungry, fun-sucker and it’s equally hungry minions are the people you drive alongside day after day. Along your routine and endless commutes you are bound to encounter a few driver types that know just how to rub dirt into all of your vehicular wounds. They are unavoidable; not even Waze knows how to alert you.
1. The Invisible Turn Signal.
There is a lever that was put installed near your hands so that you would use it. It’s called a turn signal. If you don’t use it, people are going to have a hard fucking time knowing what your next move is. The road is not chess, and your moves are not strategic; they are deadly. My pawn is not trying to destroy your Knight; I want to get to fucking work. Problem is I can’t do that when you look like you’re going straight and then all of a sudden you decide to go left, right, U turn, I DON’T KNOW. GIVE ME A HEADS UP. Or I will find you.
2. The Makeup Artist.
My life revolves around multi-tasking, but you need to learn how to prioritize your day. I can’t be worried about your blush and eyeliner when I am just trying to move faster than the glacial pace you have instilled on me, the driver, behind you. One minute you’re aware of the moving traffic, the next you’re carefully applying shadow. You’re Mrs. Stop-and-Go and I can’t move around you or get away from you to save my life. You don’t have it under control. You do not know how to do both and drive like a decent human. Put the brush down.
3. The One Handed Driver.
It is Two Thousand and Fucking Fourteen. EVERYONE HAS BLUETOOTH. Even the ‘98 Toyota Tercel has Bluetooth capabilities. Get off your damn phone and stop trying to maneuver its position between your struggling shoulder and your burning hot ear. There is no way in hell that your Porsche Cayenne is not set up for this kind of futuristic technology. It’s not magic; you’re just being lazy and literally swerving in and out of every lane because your steering wheel is trying to follow your phone wobbles. I keep praying someone pulls you over, but no. Cops are always more concerned with Mr. Homeless guy than what’s actually disturbing the peace.
4. The Oblivious.
This person is either old, legally blind, or completely spacing out due to the “legal” marijuana cigarette you’re inhaling. Either way, you have made it abundantly clear that you have absolutely no fucking idea where you are going. You’re cutting this person off, you’re going all across the god damn map and it is driving me nuts. Pull over. Stop. And consult your favorite navigation device because this guessing game is about as deadly as Russian roulette. If you choose to continue on this path, I could name a thousand people you’ve probably pissed off that would happily end you.
5. The Shitty Car.
Sometimes you’re starring ahead of the road and wondering who is that maniac swerving between lanes, honking, and acting like an overall douche canoe? Oh, well would you look at that – It is some piece of shit lemon from 1985 whose accident damage is beyond compression. What in the fuck are you doing and why hasn’t your car killed itself yet? You act like you’re driving in a monster truck rally race. This is Mulholland not Fast & the Furious dude.
6. The Asshole.
Different from shitty car guy because this person likes to believe he is road royalty and common DMV Laws do not apply to them. Double yellow lines magically disappear and small crevices between cars suddenly appear to be viable space. I don’t know if you’re high on meth or if this is your actual perception, but your shenanigans are not appreciated. You’re speeding up and down the high way when there is seriously no room for you. You’re cutting everyone off and then flipping us off because, shit, we just couldn’t get out of your way in time. You’re an actual danger to society and should probably be shot on sight. Lucky for you you’re in a Porsche and there is no way we can keep up with you.
7. The Waver.
You wave when we don’t intentionally let you into the lane. You just made it so aggressively clear that there was no way I could stop you. I know you hear me honking, “No,” but there you go anyway with your nonchalant wave. There is no, “You’re Welcome” coming your way. When will it become legal to shoot paintballs at ill-behaving drivers?
8. The Honker.
Is there a logical reason for your impatience? We’re all in the same stand-still nightmare, so why are you so insistent about honking? Are you angry you don’t know what’s going on ahead? Guess what? NO ONE DOES. It’s called traffic and your violent honks mean nothing to the rest of us. This goes for lights too. It’s been green for less than a millisecond and you want to honk because no one has gone yet? I’m sure it’s that moron doing her makeup but can ya try and wait at least a good 2 seconds before blowing your whistle?
9. The Texter.
No amount of Celeb PSAs and totally devastating commercials are going to stop everyone from driving and texting. Depressing I know, but if you’re going to do it, can you find a more considerate way? Texting while going through intersections, looking up and down while accelerating does not help ANYONE. You’re not an expert, you’re a damn serial killer in the making. I promise, that guy you’re trying to date won’t stop talking to you because you didn’t text him back in the car.
10. The Stereo-type Enabler.
Stereotypes are like drunken omissions; they stem from at least a kernel of truth. So if you want people to stop calling you a “totally Asian driver,” stop being a “totally Asian driver. “ Poor driving skills enable ugly stereotypes. When someone pisses me off on the road, I always check to see what they look like. Why? Because I want a damn good explanation for your idiocy. If you’re perpetuating something that appeals to the majority vote I’m always going to steer on the side of caution when I’m around people like you. This also applies to the cat-calling Reggaeton listening males that always seem to be driving the same Toyota pickup truck.