I am a calm and rational driver

I decided long ago that I didn’t want to die in a car, so when I drive I have no ego involved in what I am doing. I refused to get angry or frustrated or exhibit rage.

I am always in control because my life and the lives of my passengers are in the balance. It is a responsibility that all drivers must accept.

It really pisses me off that they don’t. Today for example, I’m driving down the highway, and I am being safe and responsible. I am in the left lane and there is a car in front of me slowly passing a car in the adjacent right lane.

Though the guy was just creeping past the other car, and I would have much preferred he pass at a decent pace (it’s not like I have all day,) I maintained a safe distance and waited for him to complete his pass.

As I’m waiting, this scumdog passes me in the right lane than cuts over in between me and the car I’m waiting on. Thanks to this rude jerk I no longer have a safe distance between cars. It’s really inconsiderate because he could plainly see that it wasn’t me that was holding up the traffic, it was the car in front of me. I have places to go too, you know?

Since his manuever was unsafe and inconsiderate I feel that I need to respond to let him know, so I gently tap the horn so that he’ll be aware his intrusion was unwelcome.

The dickshmoe flips me the bird! Worse, there’s another car coming up on the right, and it’s pretty clear that there’s another assbag in that car who is going to take advantage of my tendency to maintain a safe distance in order to insert himself between my car and dicksmoe number 1!

So I decide to kill two birds with one stone, as the motherfucker on the right passes me, I creep right up on dicksmoe number 1s ass and camp out on his rear fender. The assbag in the right lane now can’t sneak in and he beeps at me angrily. I catch his eye, mouth a “Fuck you!” and flip him the bird. He mouths impotent imprecations at me, so I ignore him and return my attention to the dickshmoe who’s ass I’m riding.

There’s no point in letting my ego get involved with this loser in the right hand lane. As I said, I like to drive defensively and nonaggressively.

The dickshmoe is seriously sweating the fact that I’m right on his ass. He’s in this piddly assed Miata or some such, and I’m in the wife’s Durango. He’s nothing more than a speedbump to me.

I can see the fear in the guy’s eyes and he slows down to acquire some more distance between himself and the car in front of him.

“Oh nice fucking try!” I shout, “Now you want to be all safe and courteous, hmmmmm?” Fuck him. I maintain my speed, and while I didn’t think I could be riding any closer on his ass than I was, in a moment I’m looking down into his backseat over the hood of my car.

The Goddamn turd suddenly realizes I haven’t slowed down, and that he is mere inches from my bumper at seventy miles per hour. In a panic he accelerates again until he’s right on the ass of the car in front of him.

Well, if he’s going to be rude enough to tailgate the guy in front of him, he deserves what’s going to happen next.

I ride right back up on his ass, and now the motherfucker is living in a world of hurt. He’s got no room in front of him, a tractor trailer to his right , and me right on his ass. One false move and he’s roadkill.

The sonovabitch tries to put on his hazard blinkers in the hopes that’ll make me back off, but he must be goddamend stupid to think I’ll fall for that. I let him sit there and sweat it, until finally he’s clear on the right and can move over.

As I pass him he gesticulates wildly and is giving me the finger and whatnot. In other words he’s totally incoherent and completely succumbed to road rage. He has no business being on the road. He must have a gallon of adrenaline in his blood.

Now me, I’m calm. I’m a defensive nonaggressive driver. I don’t let my ego get involved in these things. I just want to arrive alive without confrontation, so I smile pleasantly and continue on my way.

You wouldn’t beleive what kind of morons are on the road, people that think with their crotch as they drive and let their manhood get confused with driving down the road.

There are so many nutbags on the road, this kind of thing happens all the time.

Thank God I’ve learned to be a defensive driver.

Have you considered the use of blimps?

:eek: I’m being whooshed right? RIGHT?!!! You didn’t really do this, you’re just using hyperbole aren’t you? AREN’T YOU?!!!

By God, you really are a Republican, aren’t you?

Well, hell pardner. Y’all shoulda called up me ‘n da boys on the CB an’ we’d a-been out dere wit the pick-em-up trucks an’ gun racks ridin’ hell right along side-a ya. Ain’t got no use fer dem li’l rice-burners noways…an’ 'specially iffen he’s gonna drive like a sumbitch.

I’ve long advocated the use of bullhorns.

I’ve a tendency not to use my horn. I prefer to screech my tires with my brakes instead. I believe that near misses serve humanity better than the use of car horns. Car horns elicit aggressive, ego driven reations while screeches elicit fear reactions which are actually more appropriate.

My dream car is a '73 Nova, with a windshield grill and a rollcage, railroad ties on four side, dash-mounted video camera, flashing yellow lights on top, six point harnesses, doors welded shut, painted safety yellow w/ black stripes.
I’ll drive it wearing a helmet. I’ll mount a sign on the sides, front and rear that says simply, Driving Instructor.
My intention is to use this car to teach drivers around me to drive properly.

I am so reassured to know there are other calm and rational drivers on the road. (involuntarily shudders).

This is what you get from listening to too much Limbaugh whilst driving. :wink:

Seriously, is this a joke? The obvious, in-your-face hypocrisy is unbelievable. Even for a dittohead.

This time when my wife and I were dating, we were going down this country rode in my '73 Buick Centurion Convertible.

We pass this tractor trailer, and a moment later my CB radio (I had a CB in that car) chirps up.

“Hoooo-Wheeee! Get a look at that hot young thing in the convertible wearing the shorts and the tank top. I swear, the way that wind was whipping that shirt, I could see her tits!”

A moment later a different voice comes on:

“You mean in that convertible behind me?”

Then the first voice:

“That’s right. Why don’t you move on over and block 'em in? Than I can creep up and get another look!”


Sure enough, the truck in front of me moves over, blocking me in.

So I get on the CB to defend my girlfriend’s honor, and because I am young and stupid (as opposed to older, stupid, and somewhat more experienced) things get ugly pretty quick and I’m cursing them out, and slighting their manhood in ungentlemanly fashion.

We drive the next 100 miles with every trucker in the state looking to kick my ass.

So many aggressive drivers.

Only a liberal would have to ask :wink:

Scylla, although I have mixed feeling about your story, due mostly to the fact that you brought the second part of the issue upon your self, I’m going to tell a story. It is the story of a man who is basically a lay back and drive safely type story, but also it is the story of a man who has a bit of a temper at times.

I was driving from Fort Collins to Denver on I-25, on a Friday evening, in wall-to-wall traffic with the sensible parts of that traffic driving appropriately. On 25 that means if one is going below 75 one stays in the right lane until a gap opens up. I was going 80 or so, and was coming up on a slow group of traffic in the right lane. As I was in the middle of passing the group, a pickup truck pulled out directly in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, slowed to about 55 or so almost instantaneously, while doing the following things: looking for a place to dodge on the left, looking for a place to dodge on the right, looking for someone about to run up my ass, and wishing I wasn’t an agnostic.

Everything settled down, with no catastrophe, and everyone went on. My adrenaline was pumping, and as soon as I saw the driver of the truck look in the mirror, I gave him the finger. The man in the truck slammed on his brakes, causing a panic stop for the original driver (me), and everyone else behind me, a group of innocent people blithely cruising along.

I don’t do that shit no more.

It has long been a fantasy of mine to mount a 40mm gun in the grill of an automobile. No more tail gating to express displeasure, no more relying on dirty looks as you pass the Sunday driver on the curvy-hilly two lane blacktop. Just a couple rounds of high explosive into the trunk at point-blank range. That’ll teach ‘em to get in my way, by God.

Now, isn’t that satisfying.

And I’m a Democrat, for Christ’s sake.

D’oh! :slight_smile:

Scylla, sounds like you need to ditch that Durango and get yourself a real truck, like this.

Scylla, thou art the man.

I would just like to thank Scylla for doing his part to make our highways a safer place.

I would also like to suggest that he might find that driving this might help curb incidents of being cut off by discourteous drivers.

The best investment I’ve ever made for my car was buying a turret-mounted tractor beam.

No more getting angry at rude drivers who tailgate me, who cut me off, who turn left in front of me at a light. No more flipping them off, screaming at them, or waving a gun out the window.

Now I can just pick them up with my tractor beam and set them down safely by the side of the road. If I think they really need to learn a lesson, of course, I’ll pick them up and carry them hovering in the air 50 feet in front of me for a couple of miles before setting them down – but that really cuts into my gas mileage.


Some people seem to have a hard time getting their car all the way up to the speed limit, using their turn signals, yielding to faster traffic in the passing lane, or worst-- pulling the “Virginia Special.”

The Virginia Special is where a moron has a green light- which said moron continuously slows down for- as maybe it might turn. At a certain point their car is now backing up a large line of traffic due to the possible shade change of the still quite green light. Finally the moron has slowed down enough that the light does actually change for them (which it wouldn’t have if the moron just drove the speed limit). What does the moron do about the now red light he so feared? He runs the motherfucking light!! ARGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

I blame Karl Rove.


Scylla, you told yet another story which makes me think you may be related to El Hubbo.

He also says that he’s a nonaggressive, defensive driver. He’s nonaggressive and defensive until someone messes with him. Then he likes to put his (and sometimes my) life in danger. It’s his job to make sure people pay for their stupidity (or possibly mistakes) on the road.

Example: A couple of weeks ago, we’re driving down Minnehaha past Fort Snelling. Some civil servant leaving work is waiting at a light to turn right onto Snelling. There’s lots of traffic so as the light turns red, he pulls about halfway into the right lane; he’s hugging the corner. He probably should have hung back, waited for the space to be in the right lane, and then moved in. But he didn’t, so as his light turns red, ours turns green and we need to be exactly where his car is.

My husband decides to cut the guy off.

Civil servant was not happy. I’m in the passenger seat and have to sit for over 30 seconds with civil servant staring boring beams of white-hot hate into our car. A buddy of his, behind him, was also not happy. He pulled up to our left and gesticulated towards El Hubbo.

I wasn’t too thrilled, either. We argued all the way home. Teh beginning of a wonderful weekend. El Hubbo says, “I didn’t do anything wrong. He’s in the wrong.”

Say that to me when one of these assholes has a gun.

Who gives a shit who is right and who is wrong? I just want to get home in one freaking piece, okay?

Oops, from paragraph 1 of the example:

Some civil servant leaving work is waiting at a light to turn right onto Minnehaha.