Driving me insane

12 Oct

This isn’t what you’re thinking. The post title is a play on words. You see, I don’t drive much. I bought my car new in 2000 and it has 45k miles today. Mostly, it sat idle at off-airport parking lots while I worked out of state. Yeah, unh huh, that’s sooo glamorous. Eating with plastic forks and drinking wine out of plastic cups while sitting cautiously on the edge of the hotel bed watching bad TV and knowing what a blue light would show me.  How about the luxurious feel of the shower curtain as it clings to you while showering? Yummy. Let’s not forget the fun of the tinkling air conditioner, the drip of the water pipes, or the loud conventioners talking loudly outside my door at 12 midnight. Oh yeah, I so miss those days.

But I digress. This isn’t about those glory days. This is about me and my car. We have a solid relationship. She’s a quiet, confident car, and I’m well, loud and confident. We’re the yin and yang of car and owner.

We’ll call her “Pearl”. We became BFFs the moment we met. I promised I’d listen to her complaints without judgement and we’d hang out and maybe sometimes we’d just go for a drive, clear our heads.

She’s been very good to me over the years. There’s never been ANY occasion where I’ve been annoyed with her. On the other hand, I have had to apologize to Pearl on several occasions. Who would have known how much damage a nesting racoon could do? Or what would happen by leaving her unattended in the Tenderloin?

Yet, she forgives and we move on to our next journey. Like today for example. I took her with me to go to a doctor appointment in Richmond. I knew this was going to be a long afternoon – and resigned myself to the fact I’d have to drive home during commute hours. I talk to her as I drive. Like me, she promised to listen to my complaints and not judge.

As we make our way home from Richmond, I tell her that the guy in the purple Honda thinks he’s driving a bottle rocket. And the teenager in the Volvo station wagon is probably driving on dope. You see, all I see really is idiots with phones to their ears, with phones and faces in their laps, and who just flat out drive like a-holes. I continue to shake my head, and tell Pearl that she’s lucky I stopped doing that crap. She purred in agreement and I think it was her that honked at that Prius.

To this day I say that Seven Pounds did for me what Fatal Attraction did for the hubby. I don’t text and drive and he doesn’t cheat and lie.

What makes me hate TWD (texting while driving), is not the fact they are distracted – hell, I’ve seen worse Mommies in Minivans out there who cannot control the twins in the backseat and yet still try to while the car is going 70mph on the interstate – but it’s the result of the fact TWDs are distracted. You see, all y’all who TWD, you drive in the “fast lane” clearly, yet you overcompensate by leaving a 500 foot distance between you and the car in front of you, all the while ignoring us behind you. I’d flip you off but you are too busy diddling with the toy in your lap to even notice my middle finger saluting you.

I have a tip for you. And you may not like it, but that’s life. If responding to your pal’s facebook post, or replying to your boyfriend’s text, or even reading your office email is so important – remember this: while I’m driving defensively around your twisted and mangled car, I’ll cry for your stupidity, but also know that when I get home, I’ll be able to catch up with my pals on facebook, I’ll talk in person with my hubby, and at work the next day, I’ll read their emails.

My life is valuable. I wish you – the TWDs – would remember you share the road with me.

Yeah, I know, this is a rant – I’ll file it accordingly.

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One Response to “Driving me insane”

  1. Nicki October 13, 2010 at 4:09 am #

    I so get this. And I fear my daughter being on the roads with these idiots even more than I fear for myself. *sigh*

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