I’ll admit it Dear Reader—I am a notoriously impatient driver. Anyone who has ridden with me knows this and has listened to me carry on about slow drivers, Subarus, and left lane campers. They have also most likely pumped the imaginary brakes there on the passenger’s side for all they are worth.
That said—you know, my culpability adequately addressed— I must complain vociferously about three drivers I encountered in my recent mile and a half drive from my home to my favorite writing spot (no snarky comments about driving a mile and a half—I’m not in the mood).
Three drivers in less than two miles managed to piss me off. All three drivers parked themselves, unmoving, in their cars, in the middle of the road. And not only were they stationary where they should have been moving, they didn’t even bother to get out of the way when I approached. I sat patiently behind the first car and eventually it saw me there, in my large well-lighted black Jeep and moved, albeit slowly, to the curb.
The second car was parked at a four way stop pretty near my final destination, which was fine, for a minute, but then even when no more cars were at the other corners, it still sat there. I could see the driver and the passenger discussing something, discussing, discussing. I calculated my chances of a successful pass on their right but dismissed this option, not because it was illegal, but because with my luck they’d turn right and smash into me (even though their left blinker flashed incessantly as they just freaking sat there).
I muttered profanities about their mental capacities to myself when they finally made a decision and got their ass out of the intersection, but I kept my hands off the horn, firmly gripping 10 and 2 so as not to make any rude gestures that might result in them shooting me. I drove on slowly as my hopes for an empty parking space dimmed. When I came to the next four way stop, a car just sat there, in my lane while its driver conversed with a pedestrian who stood beside her car, laughing at something that passed between them.
Dear Reader, I did not snap quickly. I waited while they wrapped up their little chat, as the pedestrian made moves to get off the road; I waited for the driver to proceed since no other cars waited at any of the other stop signs. But she continued to talk, and the man came back into the street. She even made eye contact with me via her rear view mirror. Still, she did not move. Still, I did not gesture. Still I did not honk.
My patience seemed to be rewarded as the man finally moved away and driver’s window went up. Again she locked eyes with me in her rear view mirror (I may have been tilting my head at a severe angle in quiet desperation, but I was not honking, gesturing, or yelling). She just sat there, unmoving, waiting for nothing, as her window went down again and she said something to the aforementioned pedestrian. That’s when I snapped.
I honked, long and hard. I threw my hands in the air, and hoped she didn’t have a gun. She threw her hands in the air. Looked at me again in her mirror and rolled slowly across the intersection and up the hill.
I dunno, Dear Reader.I think I am losing my moral compass, not to mention my marbles Was my frustration uncalled for? Are common courtesy and common sense on the decline? What would you have done in my place? And don’t say you would have walked the mile and a half. I’m not in the mood.
Pamela Helberg 