When drivers suck

Joe’s wife here. I have one of those jobs that is either feast or famine. Either I’m up to my ears in deadlines, or I’m sitting at my desk listening to my coworker clip her fingernails while I check WebMD for fodder to feed my already anxiety-riddled mind with thoughts that the slight twinge in the left side of my head is actually a brain tumor. Right now my job is Ethiopia, so Joe very graciously has allowed me a moment on my soapbox to chat with you all a bit. But no worries…I’m not going to talk about my aforementioned neuroticisms. No, I’m here to talk about why people suck. More specifically, why driving people suck.

Yesterday was one of those days. I had dropped my car off in east Egypt for scheduled maintenance the night before, so I hitched a ride with Joe and baby boy to work. I’m a morning person; Joe is so not. Years ago when we had to commute to work together, I’m pretty certain that I drove him crazy. That arrangement lasted all of a week. But this particular morning, we had fun. We told stories and laughed and baby J wasn’t screaming the whole way. All in all, a successful ride to work and a not so bad start to the day, especially considering that it was Monday, the devil’s day.

However, the mood of the day changed from good to not so much once Joe picked me up from work to retrieve the baby wagon. I was pretty stoked because I was leaving work early (I think I mentioned that I’m bored, yes?) and this meant I got to spend a little extra time with husband and baby. So we’re driving to pick up my car which, for those of you familiar with the Hampton Roads area, was located at a shop in the Greenbrier section of Chesapeake. Ick. Anyway, we’re driving along and chatting, baby J in the backseat happily eating his goldfish crackers when this stupid, stupid truck decides that he likes our lane better than his own and starts to move right on over. No blinker, no warning wave, nothing. It’s not a huge 18-wheeler truck, but a delivery-sized truck and certainly much bigger than Joe’s Rodeo. Joe lays on his horn, with no result at all. Said truck slides on over into our lane, barely missing us. We’re pissed. For those of you who have children, you know that it’s one thing to encounter shitty and dangerous drivers when you’re driving alone in the car. But when your child is in the car, it’s a whole other ball game (hence those stupid “Baby on Board” window suction cup thingies, I suppose). So Joe speeds on up, rolls down the window and shares some words with the driver and his passenger. Now it’s on. Apparently, they think it’s funny to again drive up next to us and move (or at least pretend to move) into our lane, very nearly hitting us. This happens one more time. It’s really not funny anymore (was it ever, really?), so we decide to get the name and number on the truck. Beamon and Lassiter. Number no longer in service. Damn.

Now, living in a Navy town, you kind of get used to the souped-up Dodge Neons and Hyundais with rims that cost more than the car itself, racing each other through traffic at 100 mph down I264. You just sigh and mutter expletives when people use the shoulder to bypass other cars stuck in traffic that have been waiting there much longer then they have. And, with people as crazy and as road-rage-ful as they are these days, you try to keep the hand signals and the f-words at bay, as you never know if somebody is carrying a gun in their glovebox. But sometimes you just can’t ignore a driver’s blatant disrespect for others on the road. This was one of those times. Unfortunately, our attempts to do something about it failed.

To end my wonderful driving experience for the day, after picking up my vehicle, I was almost klobbered not 20 minutes later by another car that didn’t look before she decided to move into my lane. Perfect. The poor construction workers that I almost hit to get out of her way were not at all pleased. If I hadn’t had to pee so bad, I would have gone after that one.

So, people, the moral to this story is, please drive safely, dammit. Hang up your cell phones (which I am guilty of myself on occasion, I must admit) and pay attention to what you’re doing. Use your turn signals and try to exercise some patience. Getting somewhere five minutes sooner is really not worth risking your life and the lives of others on the road. And, whatever you do, watch out for Beamon and Lassiter trucks. They’re really shitty drivers.