When All the Weirdos Turn Crazy
February 11, 2004
Can anyone tell me what the hell, exactly, is wrong with people?
So yesterday I’m driving home, complete with a raging caffeine-withdrawal headache. Traffic was heavier than usual on the highway, and at one point we slowed down to a crawl. Gah. Sucks. But whatever.
Then I see some asshat barreling down the right shoulder, going at least 70. On the shoulder. The shoulder. Where you really aren’t supposed to drive. Where there could be someone broken down around the next bend. Or a cop, but of course that’s way wishful thinking on my part.
This shoulder was an especially stupid place to be speeding, because it ends quite suddenly when the highway we were on merges with another bigger, crappier and more congested highway. Oh, and did I mention there’s been random construction on this highway for the past bajillion years?
But the weird thing is, I didn’t really think about all this stuff until later. At the time, I just watched him fly by me, shook my head and thought, “Damn, and it’s only Tuesday.”
Because usually the road ragers wait until Thursday or Friday to go really and truly beserk. Case in point: Driving home on a Friday sometime last summer. On Massachusetts Avenue just inside the District line. I’m in the left lane because the right lane is blocked by parked cars, like it always is. Some Jeep 4x4 is in the right lane and tries to speed up and get in front of me. Sigh. So sick of that. I don’t slow down for him, in fact I downshift and speed up a bit, just to let him know I don’t appreciate being cut off from the right.
Oh noooo I did-ent! Guy floors it, cuts me off and continues to drive off at easily double the speed limit. He flies through the next light just as someone was trying to turn left. Very very very nearly slams into them. Whoa. Crazy.
“Hope getting around me was worth it, jackass,” I said, kind of laughing, because the lights are timed so no matter how fast you go, you ain’t making them all. I catch up to Mr. Crazy Jeep at the very next red light. He obviously learned his lesson, which was that it was all MY FAULT he nearly killed someone. Window goes down, out comes the middle finger. Dude, whatever.
Next red light. He’s still pissed. My windows were down already so I can hear him screaming at me. I look over and he’s right there, yelling stuff like, “I saw what you did, I saw what you did! I saw how you tried to speed up so I couldn’t get around!”
Me: Um, yeah. You nearly killed someone and it’s my fault for not letting you cut me off on the right.
Mr. Crazy Jeep: Bwa! Blibbity blah fuck! Mee hoo bitching gub!
Me: Fuck you, idiot.
Mr. Crazy Jeep: You sped up! Craw dee ba! Fuck shit bitch yibby!
Me: Way to drive 80 in a 30 zone. Do you enjoy running over small children too?
Mr. Crazy Jeep: Blah! Yip figgity fug! (gets out of car, starts waving arms over head) Boooo, fucking foo fah!
Me: (rolls windows up, gets out cell phone) Green light, have a nice life, fuckhead!
Mr. Crazy Jeep: Your car’s slow as shit!
Whoa, man, seriously! Say what you want about me and my mother, but please, leave the poor car out of this!
So that’s a Friday road rager. And this morning…a Wednesday road rager! Seriously, what. The. Hell. The entire D.C. metro area needs major anger management therapy.
Left lane on two-lane road. Stuck behind a slowpoke, need to get in the right lane soon to get on the highway. I see an opening, check my blind spot, put my signal on and pull over.
Hooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnkkkkkkkkkk. (pause) Hooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnkkkkkkkkkkkkkk. Honk! HonkHonk!
The car that less than a millisecond before had been a car’s length behind me is now right on my ass and making a big show of pulling over to the right because he needed to swerve to get out of the way of the crazy driver who cut him off with no indication other than her TURN SIGNAL. He’d obviously floored it the second he saw I wanted over and was now pounding the horn for all it was worth.
Big old whatever. Like what, I was going to pull back over? Get on the highway ramp. He’s tailing me. I get over on the highway and move all the way over to the left lane before the highway divides ahead. He’s trying to tail me, but Taurus vs. Subaru WRX isn’t much of a competition. But he’s determined. He catches up with me, comes up on the right side and…well, I don’t really know. I wasn’t going to look at him; I just kept on driving. Then he sped by me and crossed back over to the right side of the highway to go the opposite direction at the split.
So to recap: I get in front of him. I am in front of him for a span of about 45 seconds before we go our separate ways on the highway. This asshat spent time and energy trying to tailgate and pass me, for what? So I’d know I’d pissed him off? Noted. Sorry. A thousand apologies. So he could “beat me?” Um, ok. Hope you got to your destination a lot faster than me. So he could scare me? Sorry Mr. Angry Taurus, you’ll always be a distant second to Mr. Crazy Jeep in my life.
But seriously, you looked way too fat to be getting so worked up over driving. You could have a heart attack or something. Maybe you should try riding a bike to work.
And Subaru WRX vs. bike? Mwa ha ha!