You would think that after spending the majority of my adult life in Southern California I would be a better, more tolerant driver.
You would be wrong.
I HATE driving. I hate driving so very much that if given the opportunity, I would never drive again. I have such low tolerance for stupidity-random lane changes, no blinkers, doing 45 on the freeway-all these things make me so angry so fast it’s almost as if I’m possessed.
Not too long ago I was merging on the freeway when some nut decided he needed to be in my lane. He merged over, forcing me to slam on my brakes to avoid either being hit or being driven in to the brick wall that was conveniently located to my right. (my son was in the car, I might add)
I flipped my noodle. I sped up, caught up with him, and then pretended I was going to do the same thing to him. On the freeway. Doing 65. I did the whole steering wheel swerve fake out thing. Did I mention my son was in the car?
Now, before you tell me how stupid I am for risking my son’s life, remember who you’re talking to. I have beat myself up over this behavior for a while now. There is nothing worse than having to apologize to one of your children.
Anyhow, he got behind me and followed me. I tried to remain calm, proceeded to follow my course, exiting where I needed to exit-he followed me the whole way. Up one street and down the other, he was still behind me. I had Youngest dig out my pepper spray and my cell phone, and had my finger on the call button after dialing 911.
He finally turned right as I went straight.
Since then, I have tried to be more calm, I really have. I try to tell myself the most important thing is that I arrive at my destination alive. It doesn’t always work, but I am trying.
I like George Carlin’s answer to stupid drivers. All cars should be equipped with a suction cup dart gun-when you see someone doing something stupid, shoot a dart at them. When they have three darts stuck to their car, they have to pull over. They are not allowed to drive again until tomorrow. Or, license plate numbers can be car phone numbers. Then I could at least call the person and direct my anger towards them, instead of screaming like a banshee at people who can’t even hear me.
If anyone has any helpful tips for dealing with road rage, please leave them in the comments. I would hate to be remembered as that crazy lady who was shot on the freeway because she yelled at some guy doing 45 miles an hour.