To the moron on the beltway yesterday, who zipped across three lanes of the highway, got directly in front of another car, and slammed on your brakes… causing the driver of that car to have to slam on the brakes to avoid ramming your car from behind in the fast lane.
FUCK YOU!.
::: deep breath ::: This seems to be a theme with me this weekend. This little tidbit happened after my posting about the snow on car roofs so y’all get a dual dose of highway pitting from me this weekend. Sorry. Back to the rant.
Oh, you were having GREAT fun. Maybe somebody pissed you off, cut you off, or something. Maybe you just saw something pretty or shiny on the left shoulder that you just had to look at. Maybe something about the car you cut off annoyed you (though the driver swears she had not seen or been near you prior to this DUMBASSED stunt) and you felt the car “needed to be taught a lesson”. Maybe your girlfriend / boyfriend / pet goat had just dumped you and you wanted to share the joy. I don’t fucking CARE what your reasoning was. Your action was dangerous and irresponsible and I hope like HELL you realized later that it was a FUCKWITTED thing to do.
You see, this time, the driver that had to slam on her brakes just HAPPENED to be transporting a carload of GIRL SCOUTS.
One of whom happened to be MY DAUGHTER. So, you FUCKING MORON, you very nearly cost me a large percentage of what makes my life worthwhile, all because you chose that particular time and place to demonstrate what an IRREDEEMABLE ASSHOLE you are.
“:mad:” doesn’t even come close to expressing it. I got the shakes when the mom in question told me about that. I was driving a little ways behind, not close enough to see the car in question, but I’d have most likely driven right past them, no clue, until I got to our destination an hour later and realized an entire carload of people had not arrived. Oh wait - 2 entire carloads. The other carload of Girl Scouts was just behind the first one. Woohoo, 8 girls for the price of 4, yippee!!
I’m with Frank on this. When you’re dealing with a piece of metal, fiberglass and rubber massing in excess of a ton, moving at speeds in excess of twenty meters per second * if that is mishandled it can be deadly.
For that matter, simply looking at highway accident death and injury tolls should make it clear to people. And that’s assuming most accidents are unavoidable, rather than the result of recklessness or fuckwittedness.
There are times I really think that removing driving priveleges doesn’t happen nearly often enough.
((80 kph *1000 m/k) / 3600 seconds per hour gives me 22.2 m/s, but I’ll admit that’s seat of the pants conversions and I may have dropped some units.)
Did lady driving your daughter get a good look at the make and model of the fuckwit’s car, or even the licence plate? Is there any chance at all that said fuckwit will get what’s coming to him?
And, to play devil’s advocate for a while, is it possible that the alleged fuckwit sneezed or had an epileptic fit, or suffered some other involuntary mishap that caused them to lose control of their vehicle for a moment? I once saw a clip on some police chase show where a seemingly dangerously lunatic driver turned out to be an old guy with alzheimers who came out of the car shaking and confused when he was eventually brought to a halt by a horde of bellowing police with guns.
And I’m glad your daughter is all right. I can’t imagine anything worse than losing a child.
The same people who have no problem cutting a car in front of you would probably never consider cutting in front of you at, say, a bank line. The issue is no accountability for their actions. They get away with it because they can.
No, unfortunately she didn’t get enough of a look at the fuckwit’s license etc. to report him/her/it. And I suppose the police won’t do anything if they don’t see it and no accident actually happened. Certainly conceivable that the driver had some momentary lapse but given the DC beltway, “asshole” is the more likely explanation.
Actually, something similar happened to me this morning. I was cruising along happily at about 60 mph in the fast lane of a three-lane highway when someone swung over from the slowest lane and only just realized someone was already occupying his bit of the fast lane. He then swung in half a car length behind me (forget his headlights, I could barely see his hood). I got out of the fast lane and into the middle lane as soon as I could, only to have him swing in half a car length ahead of me. I hit my brakes to give myself some room and watched this accident-waiting-to-happen continue to swing back and forth across three lanes of traffic, routinely giving himself less than a car length between him and the vehicles ahead of or behind him. As I watched him, I realized he probably doesn’t have homicidal or suicidal intentions. In fact, he may well think he’s an excellent driver who takes the most efficient and effective route and figures everyone who doesn’t do what he does is a wimp.
Oh yes, here’s the kicker – the morning news was warning of unexpected icy spots and a few accidents caused by them. :rolleyes:
Mama Zappa, I’m sorry it happened. What can I say? Some people are just plain idiots.
Many, many years ago…
Location: a pretty beat-up car. The poor thing is a manual; its owner doesn’t understand the concept of “clutch” so the gearbox scratches every time he changes gears.
Actors: a man (driving) and his girlfriend.
We’d been driving for a while. This was in Miami, where “right here” means 15’ away by car. It was sunny, then it was raining a bit, then it was Niagara Falls. I couldn’t even see the end of our own hood.
Me: “Honey? Honey*, d’you think we should, uh, slow down? Maybe STOP!?”
He: “Nah, I’ve got good reflexes.”
Me: “Ah, maybe the other guy doesn’t. I’d. Rather. Stop.”
He: “Nah, I’m ok.”
Me: “I’m. Not.” (I was getting pretty hysterical, actually) “I’d. Rather. Stop.”
He: “Aw, c’mon, it’s just a bit of rain.”
Me: “Stop. Please. Or God, I’m not coming with you in a car ever again.”
He stopped. And I didn’t have a stroke or anything.
I couldn’t see the end of our own hood…
No, I didn’t call him honey. I call guys honey when I’m about to murder them, not when I’m terrified. I called him his name. But the rythm is similar.
Mama Zappa, I’m glad everybody else involved had strong hearts.