Seriously, I've had enough already. These bat-shit insane drivers that I've been encountering on my way home from work this past week are driving me ABSOLUTELY LOONY. I will soon be one with the bat-shit.
I'm pretty sure that's unsanitary.
My drive home from work, while taking less than half time now that I live in Long Beach as compared to when I was living in West Covina, is kind of like an obstacle course. First, there's the "Ooo, here? Maybe here? Oh no, gone to far!" game every day of trying to figure out when exactly to get over to make a left-hand turn from Crenshaw Boulevard onto PCH. The standard left hand turn lane is far to short to handle rush hour traffic, and instead of that overflow spilling to the next lane and backing it up, there's one of those yellow-line-on-each-side lanes that runs up the rest of the street. People who are savvy to the traffic at that time of day know that when they see a line of traffic in that yellow enclosure that they need to suck it up and get in line. But then there are the ASSHOLES who don't get over and then stop in the next lane with their blinker on, blocking traffic, and try to intimidate you by playing chicken with their front bumper to get in front of you. GO TO THE BACK OF THE BUS, MISTER.
After navigating this minefield, it's on to PCH, which is nothing but a plethora of stoplights, and the four miles that I have to spend on it every day take up over half of my commute time. And then you have to watch some jackass in front of you bounce around from lane to lane, always trying to get ahead, thinking he's a race car driver, and ten minutes later he winds up RIGHT BACK IN FRONT OF YOU. It doesn't work, dude. Save yourself the trouble.
Once I can mercifully get off of PCH, I end up on the 110 freeway. Joy of joys, the on-ramp is one of those lanes that continue on to the next exit; it's not forcing you to merge right away. So it's often my luck to get stuck behind some jackass that's getting off at the next exit and therefore has no need to accelerate above 30 mph. Or they're Asian (OH YES I DID). Or some person in the lane you want to merge into that wants to get into my lane, but every time I speed up they speed up and every time I slow down they slow down and it's just like "Um, excuse me, can you quit annoying the fuck out of me so we can do this?" And then the next lane over is no better because it's loaded with semis that are getting off at the next exit after that. A girl's only choice is to dart into that lane, gain some momentum, keep her eyes on the next lane over in the sideview mirror, and jump over whenever there is sufficient space.
This is where my problem has been the last two days. I don't cut people off. Even if you're pissing me off, I don't cut people off. Mainly because I don't trust other drivers, and I really don't feel like them fucking up my lovely red Dodge Neon and forcing me into another five years of car payments. Because I only have liability coverage. UNDERINSURED AND PROUD OF IT. So for the last two days, yes, TWO days, I have waited for that appropriate gap to get over, and all of a sudden cars are all up behind me about to run over me. As in they are like hundreds of yards behind me when I check that lane before I move over, and then all of a sudden they're on top of my ass. As in they are so far back that you can't even judge how fast they're going, because how could somebody that far back ever catch up to you. Which leads to the question: If I am going over 70, and you can get to me that quickly and are about to run over me, you've got to be pushing 90, SO WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU IN THE #2 LANE? I'm all about the driving fast and the getting home as quickly as possible, and I waste no time in the #2 lane. The purpose of the #2 lane is to get myself at a sufficient speed to move into the #3 lane. Ninety mph is definitely #4 lane material. RULES OF THE ROAD, RIGHT THERE.
So the first time, it's this old purple ghetto Windstar. He was way far behind me when I checked my mirror, far enough back that if he was going at normal #2 lane speed he never would have caught up to me. But this....this....DOUCHEBAG! Oh my god I said it again, he made me say it....time warps to the back bumper of my car and I can see him in my rearview mirror throwing his hands up and yelling and trying to be all hard, and when I see that, IT JUST MAKES ME SLOW DOWN. Don't push me. So he finally gets into the next lane (where he should have been all along) to pass me, and flips me off as he drives past, leaning forward just to flip me off a little bit more as he pulls ahead like "Oh my god oh my god oh my god I have so much middle finger for you that the first time you saw it it wasn't enough!" And I was all "Dude, you drive a 14 year old purple minivan. Not impressed."
And then yesterday, same thing. I get in the #2 lane after checking to make sure that the next vehicle is far enough back. Which he totally was. But again, he all of a sudden put on his super speed and starts FLASHING HIS LIGHTS AND HONKING HIS HORN as he starts to catch up to me. Dude, I can see you. You're going 90, why are you even in this lane?
I'm not even getting into the part after the freeway with the people who have mental blocks that prevent them from crossing bridges at more than 15 mph and then people who have stupid philosophies on when it's okay to drive through a crosswalk.
My conclusion: My was is the only way, and those motherfuckers need to never drive again. Ever.
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