Dave’s Rules of the Road


 

Driving since 1982

 

Now that I have gotten a somewhat respectable (albeit temporary) job, I have once again joined the ranks of the thousands of commuters who drive the freeway to get to the office every day. And in so doing, I’m getting a grasp on what it was I missed out during my time of unemployment.

Take, for example, today.

While traveling down the southbound 405 into Orange County, I witnessed a woman that was slowly–and I mean slowly–making lane changes whenever she had the opportunity to do so. The woman, in her 50s with a Moe Howard hairdo and driving an SUV, had her hands in the dreaded 10-and-2 position, a stance which indicates to us veteran drivers (click image above) that the driver of the vehicle is either a) offer her nut or b) just graduated from Sears Driving School yesterday.

Seriously, nobody drives that way in SoCal. If you do then you’re probably the type with a comb-over, thick, dirty prescription glasses, faded Bush/Cheney bumper stickers and ham radio call signs all over your beat-up Ford Festiva. A creepy dude. Me, I usually have my hands in the 7-and-bag-of-Carl’s Jr.-fries position. Because I’m cool like that and I don’t have a ham radio.

Mmm…ham…

But what made this woman’s hand position even more¬†malevolent¬†was the fact that she wasn’t just holding the wheel that way. No, if that steering wheel could talk it would have probably said, “Jesus Christ, woman! Ease up!” Her grip was so tight on the wheel that, even though she was already a shade of pasty white, her knuckles were a whiter shade of pale that has yet to be named: Ultra White, Super White, Electromagnetic Spectrum White, Brilliant White…whatever. It seemed she was so fearful that someone would simulate a game of Spy Hunter by dropping an oil slick in her lane that removing one hand from the wheel, if only for a nanosecond, was unreasonable and most certainly would put her life in jeopardy.

That said, all of her lane changes where made without signalling. Yes, in her quest to survive any potential freeway catastrophe that a 50-something woman with cat-like reflexes (HA!) might encounter, she wasn’t thinking about all of the other drivers around here that she was cutting off–myself included.

Thanks for nothing, lady.

So then I got to thinking about the little things that I do to make my drive, as well was that of my fellow motorists, a bit easier and more friendly. I now proudly present that list along with a few other handy-dandy tips for anybody that cares to try them. Ready? Here we go.

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