A whole lot o' nothing. And then some….
Random header image... Refresh for more!

Rage Against the Machine

Friday, May 12, 2006

RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE

The sun is shining. The flowers are in bloom. Yes, spring has sprung and summer is on its way. In other words: it’s construction season. And in my neighbourhood, it’s everywhere. New homes, new decks, new gardens. Old houses, old sidewalks, old potholes. It’s not pretty. And the ugliest of all? The traffic that accompanies it. Yep, I’m talkin’ Road Rage.

I’m no commuter, so I’m not as afflicted as I probably would be – if I strayed from my ever-shrinking quadrant. Sure, I’ve been known to let the odd expletive slip out. But only sometimes. And I’ve found myself getting hot under the collar if someone stops at a yellow light (c’mon, you had time!) or slows for no reason (get a map!). And of course I can’t ignore the bizarre correlation between drivers of a certain height and bad drivers. It’s true! No offense to those who are shorter in stature, but next time you’re behind a particularly annoying car, note where the top of the driver’s head hits. Maybe they’re slouching. Or, not. Anyway…lately I’ve tried a new tack – ignoring. As my grandmother used to say, “it’s faster than walking”. So I’ve tried taking deep breaths and letting any potential road rage situations roll gently off my shoulders.

But it ain’t working. Au contraire. It’s backfiring.

So far, I’ve been called a c**t (sorry, this is a family-friendly blog) because I failed to signal. A bitch (I can say that) for going through an intersection – when it was my turn. And today I pulled up a stop sign around the corner from my house and was practically accosted. Honestly!

Some guy signaled for me to roll down my window. Like a fool, I did. He proceeded to berate me for going 60 in a 40 zone. What the hell? Who was this guy? Was he an X Men mutant with a penchant for radar? I don’t think so. Instead of zooming away, I engaged him: How do you know how fast I was going? Yeah? But how do you know? The block is so minute, my non-performance car wouldn’t even make it to 60 klicks. Raising his voice, he told me there were 30 kids living on the block and I was a danger on the road. It was all I could do to not let my potty mouth get the better of me. Instead, I figured, I’d show him! And took off as fast as my little car could carry me. Bite my dust, scumbag!

I didn’t get too far. As I said, they’re short blocks. And then I panicked. What if he took my license plate? Tracked me down to make a citizen’s arrest? What if I am a dangerous driver? I know I can be a little flighty sometimes, especially if it’s pissing down with rain or a good tune comes on the radio. But can’t everybody?

Next weekend is a long one. Then first of the summer. And when summer comes to Canada, Canada hits the streets. In their cars. So buckle up people, it’s gonna be a hot one. It’s gonna f**king rage….

Share/Bookmark
Advertisement

0 comments

There are no comments yet...

Kick things off by filling out the form below.

Leave a Comment