I’m not in to cars. I get into them, for transportation and such, but I’m not IN TO them like I would be in to Italian food, Red wine, Comic books, Great movies, music and the wife.
I don’t consider myself a conventional male, when conventional wisdom confines men as being motorheads who gets off at any discussion of cars. (I do admit on having huge appreciation for some of the models used in advertising said cars, but that’s another story.)
As far as operation of cars, let’s play the humble card and I’ll say I’m average. I know I’m no Michael Schumacher, but being average implies there are a lot of idiots out there, who manage to cast serious doubt at the authenticity of their driving permits. I consider it my duty as a responsible citizen to enlighten those few who seems to have found their permits in a lucky packet. Or worse.
Please read closely if you fall into this category.
When you drive and see a circular sign with a number on it, that is what we call a speed limit. It’s an indication of the speed your vehicle should be travelling at. The speed of your car is controlled by the use of the gas pedal and if by chance, you look down and find the value of the speedometer lower than the value on the sign, you may, without risk of prosecution, accelerate. This is done, quite effectively, by removing your fat foot from the break pedal and placing it on the gas pedal, in one quick motion. If you decide to remain at the crawling speed of a snail, then move out of the f@cking way. Oops. Let me rephrase that. Please slow, down move to the side of the road and call a cab. Or hike. For there are other people, using the same road, who have a life and would like to get to their destination before the turn of the century.
If you have some weird, freakish fetish and would like to see what is in the back of my SUV, then please flash your lights and I will gladly pull over and open the boot for you. It doesn’t matter how close you get to my vehicle, it will remain impossible to see anything whilst both of us are driving. If you cannot read my bumper sticker or see any of the lights on the rear of my car, than you might be a bit to close to me. Back off. Cars do not posses the ability to copulate, so there is no sense in you trying to connect your grill to my towbar. Get off my ass, I’m married, so I already have someone on my back 24 hours of the day. I don’t need you.
Traffic lights are wonderful things. There are three phases associated with any of these flashing lights, acting as guidance counsellors for intersections. As some of you are colour blind, please note that the red light sits at the top of the three. And that light, that RED light, means S-T-O-P-! This happens when you place that foot of yours on the break. See how that works? A red light does not grant a driver the permission to test how quickly he/she/teenager can accelerate from 0 to 100 km/hour in the space of 20 metres.
Whilst the ability to break, reduce speed and other methods of stopping your car is certainly crucial at an intersection, it is less so on the open road. If you have a phobia of public restrooms and decide to urinate in nature, in full view of everyone driving on the freeway, please be so kind and use your indicator for it’s intended purpose, prior to stopping dead in the road and then turning. This will allow me to have ample time to react and not swerve out of the lane like a crazed lunatic into oncoming traffic. You know those shrieks and horns you hear, that’s a soundtrack you created.
I understand that woman can multi-task but if you’re moving erratically in and out of your lane, whilst putting on mascara, then it implies that driving and putting on make-up were not part of that skill. It cannot be done effectively, when it happens at the same time. Get your lazy ass out of bed sooner. This might prevent you from becoming a threat-in-motion with smeared eye make-up. Remember, early in the morning some people are still trying to wipe the gunk from their eyes and develop a personality.
The same basic fundamental is applicable to texting. Don’t do it, especially when you’re driving. I know that some people have lost the ability to converse orally, and therefore the only way of connecting with other humans would be using your thumb really well. But seriously, do you really want to run the risk of arriving late for your dinner date because you had to take a detour to the hospital?
And don’t get me started on small children in the front seat, not wearing safety belts. Just thinking about it causes the vein in my neck to bulge. It’s times like these I have a name for him. The vein. I call him George. And it would be better for me not to elaborate on this point further, for it would merely be an ambush of F-bombs.
If you follow these simple rules, it will mean safer roads for all of us, but more importantly, it will allow me to have a much needed chilled drive to work, without any risk of aneurisms or heart attacks due to an escalating blood pressure.
So be considerate. I don’t like losing my shit. It takes too much time to get it back.