Roads are a means of vehicular transport. They are meant to provide cars, trucks, all manner of motorized vehicles a method of getting safely from one place to the next. Therefore, it behooves vehicles to keep moving on them.
When you block the road to chat with someone in another car, or with a pedestrian, you create a hazard, which results in impeding the normal flow of traffic, at the very least. At the worst, it results in an accident. It is also rude, thoughtless, and egotistical.
Just because you see someone you know does not mean you have to stop everything just to say hello, make plans to meet later, or stop and exchange fruitcake recipes. Especially when it impedes traffic and creates a potentially dangerous situation. Kindly content yourself with a cheery wave to your friend, and resolve to call him/her later that evening to chat, or to make plans to get together at a restaurant, a tavern, or at either of your homes.
Once again, roads are for driving.
It is no more appropriate for you to sit with your car blocking the road while you chat than it would be for me to drive my exterminator truck through your living room while you had friends over for canapes and cocktails.
I’ve gotten some of my best fruitcake recipes from passersby, and therefore don’t think I’ll start inquiring of them as I pass any time soon, thankyouverymuch.
It must be a drawing-room. I saw a guy reading the freaking newspaper, which was propped up on the steeringwheel, during my morning commute today. I gave him my best dirty look, but, unsurprisingly, he didn’t appear to notice.
Apparently, the OP is not aware of the itinerant asshat rule which permits three across lane changes without a signal, tailgaiting under any conditions, and other offenses that cause otherwise rational people to visualise mayhem.
While traveling home during snowy conditions tonight, road conditions caused most rational of the species to reduce speed, limiting same to 35-45 MPH. Some chose to disregard the stronger breeders, and they were seen in the ditches along the road.
What caused the greatest measure of annoy was the misbegotten zygote who chose to perform their best nascar drafting imitation on me, failing to note the 15 car length following space I afforded the truck ahead.
Thankfully, after 30 miles of poorly aimed “driving” lights in my mirror (how much can they help you, once you’ve memorized the hair pattern on the back of my head?) this miscreant found another motorist to annoy.
Same rules apply; don’t litter, don’t put your feet on the seats, don’t scream at people, and maybe if you’re good, the ticket taker will come down to the platform and we’ll all have tea. Or maybe not.
Alas, I have to admit my one major Road Rage incident involves this, in a parking lot. Two high school idiots. One in a 4X4, on in a Justy, in a standard, one lane in each direction road, pull up side by side, to chat with each other. I wait. Ten people behind me. Horns honk. I wait. I flash my brights. The gentleman in the Justy gives me the finger and laughs.
I slowly engage first gear. Yes, it’s a Beetle. But I’m still bigger, older, have more tire, and am a lot meaner. I come into contact with his 2.5 MPH bumper at about .2 mph. He laughs more. I slowly step on the gas. His car moves. Backwards. He steps on the gas, himself. Nothing happens. Jams the brakes. Backwards he goes. Wet pavement. We persist in this for about ten seconds, a good two-three feet, while I watch his face go white, before he steps on reverse himself. I find a lovely parking spot, and he confronts me. I inform him that, yes, there is something wrong with me, I’m fucking mental, and yes, I have his license plate number. I offer to let him speak to the cops, I have a cell phone here. I loom. I’m only five foot seven, but I weighed enough to make three of them. Luckily, there were only two.
He storms back into his Justy and squeals out of the parking lot. I go shopping. My car, when I come out? Unmarred. Neither his front bumper or mine had a scratch, either.
It was bad and wrong and very enjoyable.
Two day ago I was on campus trying to find a parking spot. The lanes are very narrow and you have enough room for one car in each direction. In the lane nearest the building, a guy stops, drops off his passenger, and then puts on his warning lights. Puts on his warning lights? Was he having car troubles? Clearly not. He just decided that he was going to block one entire lane of traffic because he wanted to park.
It was ok though because surely the person he was dropping off was only going to be inside for a few seconds and we wouldn’t mind the wait. Also it’s a well known fact that clicking on your warning lights = automatic parking space anytime and anyplace.
The problem here is threefold: 1) There were cars in the other lane going the other direction which means I couldn’t go around him. Had he even moved forward 15 feet I could have done so but no, he was parked where he was parked.
2) Even if there was room on the other lane I couldn’t slide over because I was too close to his car to turn. He apparently likes his warning lights but doesn’t give us much warning that he’s going to be warning us with his warning lights.
3) He was either completely deaf or just loves the sounds of cars honking.
Seriously, I cannot even fathom the amount of chutzpah it takes to block in an entire lane of traffic because you’ve decided that’s where you’re going to park for a few minutes.
You morons, it’s not a drawing room, it’s a fucking powder room! I see at least four women every day either applying lipstick, doing their hair, filing their nails, getting a perm, etc… WHILE DRIVING! Ok, maybe not getting a perm (Do people even GET perms anymore?) but, still!
(Then again, I have been known to eat Whoppers, hold my drink and smoke all at the same time while driving. But I’ve got mad skillz man! These ladies are amateurs!)
I was expecting a post about kids drawing with chalk on the road… Oh well. I agree tho, to the OP, stop stoppin and yappin and for the love of GOD, get off the cell phone.
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