Today is the day that I am going to end the silence and tell the truth about New York Drivers.
*cue dramatic music*
Sure, we've all seen the horror that is New York taxi drivers. We've all watched movies where they show New York City being inundated by people who have no respect for traffic signals, lane division, or pedestrians. And that's all fine, good and well for the city, where the Code of the Jungle is eat or be eaten, kill or be killed. You're gonna drive that cab like your ass is on fire. And to those people I say God be with you, and also with you, because ain't no way in Hell I would do your job. Alaskan Crab Fishermen in the Bering Sea at least have a chance, know what I'm sayin'? Sure, the waves are big and the deck is slippery, but there's a 50-50 chance you'll come back alive.
Meanwhile, in NYC?
Not so much.
New York, however, doesn't end in the city. Neither does the bad driving.
I live in the part of the state that is mostly inhabited by farmers, old people who've never left the county or the homestead where they were born, and the Amish.
Even the Amish drive those buggies like they're on a Mission From God.
Once or twice a week I make a round trip that takes me about an hour each way. I'm already on edge when I leave because of the speed limit situation. I know it's going to take me FOR FREAKING EVER to get where I'm going because I kid you not, the speed limit changes about 27 times in a 45 mile radius.
In the first 15 minutes of my drive I've gone from 30, to 45, to 55, back to 40, then 30... 30... 30... 35... PSYCHE! We meant 30... 30... 30... GAHHHHHH!
Then I hit the open road and at long last, I'm cruising at 55, which is really stupid. Who the fuck has a state speed limit of 55? SO annoying. Anyway, I'm going 55, listening to tunes, singing Highway To Hell at the top of my lungs, when BLAM!
40... 45... 40... 30... 55...
Kill. Me. Now.
(*Sidebar: I was looking for images of bad New York drivers and got totally distracted by funny quotes about dingoes eating babies. I have no idea how that happens.)
|This one cracked me up for a full 5 minutes.|
Let me introduce you to the most typical types of Upstate New York drivers.
First, and most annoying, we have The Speed Limit Elitist.
This is the person I want to kill.
This is the person I scream at for 45 miles.
This is the person who incites every type of road rage imaginable and makes me want to totally change my stance on gun control and personal ownership of assault rifles.
This is the person who never goes above or below the speed limit.
Which is fine, but they also don't think you should, either.
They refuse to use turn-outs and allow the 16 cars backed up behind them to pass.
They refuse to pull to the right in the one section of road with a passing lane that lasts about a quarter of a mile.
They refuse to believe that 55 actually means 62.
But I'd be happy with 62.
And without fail, I am behind one of them every.single.time I make my drive.
On the off chance that I actually have enough clear road to pass them, I blow by at about 75 miles an hour, leaning on my horn the entire time.
New York drivers have turned me into an asshole.
Next on the list is the Shoulder Passer.
These are the people who don't believe that traffic laws are actually made for them. (Which, I've found, defines about 98% of all New York Drivers. Traffic laws are made for visitors from other states.)
If there is no passing lane, then what the hell... drive on the shoulder! That's what it's for! If some idiot won't get out of their way, they'll get out of the idiot's way AND PASS ON THE SHOULDER!
Need to make a left-hand turn without a turn lane? No problem! WE'LL JUST DRIVE AROUND YOU ON THE SHOULDER OF THE ROAD WITHOUT EVEN BOTHERING TO SLOW DOWN!
And heaven forbid you are a person who understands that PASSING ON THE RIGHT is against the law, and you actually stop and wait while the person makes their left turn, WE'LL JUST DRIVE RIGHT UP YOUR ASS HONKING THE HORN!
This behavior makes me say very bad words.
Which in turn leads to incidents like this:
I was driving my nieces to the salon to get their hair cut for school. Keep in mind both girls are mentally and physically disabled, and will repeat EVERY FUCKING THING I say and do.
Which I really, really appreciate.
Anyway, I'm trying to make a left turn into the parking lot of the salon.
There is no turn lane (because that would make sense, of course).
And then, some jackass IN A HUMMER... BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN THE AMISH WILL HAVE AN UPRISING... careens up behind me blowing his horn, then at the last minute, swerves around me on the shoulder of the road.
Then I say:
Me: *at the top of my tiny little lungs* "YOU STUPID ASSHOLE!! WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK! OH MY GOD! GET A PRIUS, YOU DOUCHEBAG MOTHERFUCKER! OH MY GOD!"
From the backseat:
Tori and Jessie: *giggle giggle*
Later that same day, in the pool, I noticed that Jessie was singing a song that she had made up herself. She has a lovely voice, and even though she doesn't speak clearly, she managed to get THESE words completely right:
Jessie: *with perfect pitch* "What the fuck... What the fuck... What the fuuuuck... What the fuuuuuck!"
|I am also why we don't have any friends.|
And finally, we have The Impatient Asshole Who Is Always In A Hurry And Criticizes Other Drivers:
|I wonder who it could be...|