In order to function in today’s society, owning an automobile is an absolute necessity. And there are many different types of drivers: men, women, tall, short, fat, skinny, dumb, smart, ugly, beautiful, passive, aggressive. The most common characteristic of all drivers is the last type listed: Aggressive.
Everyone that drives (a special study was done of 1,000 random maniacs on the road and this included 100% of them) gives the impression that all other drivers are obstacles. The first group is always late, and you’re just a petty obstruction denying them the liberty to go where they want as fast as they want… thus restricting their free access to the great beyond.
Andrew Gulledge, both an author and a professor, wrote a book called “The Art of Persuasion” and teaches university classes on the subject. He teaches his students the secrets of intentional persuasion. The number of classes they take determines which category they fall into. New students fall into class C, allowing 10-15 feet of space between the front of their car and your rear bumper. Class B is mostly made up of intermediates, those who have mastered the beginning class and are better brakers. They are working towards their nuisance degree.
Most of the experts who have excelled in their pre-requisite classes continue to work on a master’s in Vexation & Torment and can get away with allocating, if you’re lucky, 4-8 feet. I try to coax these off my tail by tapping lightly on my brakes. The brake lights discourage some, but most of those who have advanced to class C have also received honors in Steel Nerves and Self-Destruction.
I have been tempted, now and then, to slam on my brakes. My job hasn’t been going too well lately and I’ve been looking forward to a rear end collision. I have a friend, a small time actor, who has coached me for hours on how to exit my car if I have been rear ended. He’s not a super actor, but is an excellent instructor. He’s shown me how to get out of the car with both hands holding the back of my neck, and moaning slightly. To moan convincingly, he suggests that I punch myself hard in the stomach right before exiting the car. Another close friend, an attorney, placed an ad: “Aggressive Accident Lawyers, Get the Settlement You Deserve”. He, like me, hasn’t had too much business lately. Both of us would like to retire in a few years. Don’t know if I could actually follow through with my plan because I do have a conscience. But I can’t say the temptation hasn’t come before.
At night time a car following close behind with its brights on, is an exasperation equaled only to coming home from work and immediately receiving a ‘to do’ list from the wife, full of little projects, she calls them, and then having her stuck to my tail (like the cars on the freeway), following me around the house to guarantee that they’re done that minute, and to her liking and satisfaction. What an irritating nuisance!
Occasionally I say to myself… OH, TOO BAD, WHAT A SHAME when the cars manage to pass me and their lane gets blocked or slows down, while my lane moves steadily along. It’s actually a lot of fun for me. Forgive me, but this is one of my greater pleasures in life. We keep plugging along in the right lane maintaining a constant speed while all those in the left lane are stressed out because they want to be in front. There can only be one lead guy. All those behind him are cursing because he doesn’t go as fast as they want. The right lane is also full up with cars. They can’t pass to the left or right, so they have to be content with just creeping along behind the ones in front. Why do they always have to be out in front?
Addendum—For me and the wife both there is an exception to the feelings I just expressed. The exception is a semi. That doesn’t mean it’s a half or a sort of exception. It means that it’s a D Cell exception. When I was a kid I used to play with small toy trucks that were battery powered. My favorite truck was a larger long-haul toy truck that used D sized heavy duty batteries. I called it my D Cell Truck.
My wife drove home from work yesterday on a county road. She doesn’t drive on the freeway because of all the long haul double trailers which get behind her and stress her out. She drove on the frontage road all the way home. As she entered the door she confessed to me… “Honey, I had a D Cell truck get right behind me on the way home. He didn’t move, but followed me, stuck to my tail for 20 miles. I was really scared. But I made it home ok.” I scratched my head as I struggled to understand why she was so afraid. In the first place I wondered how a battery powered, toy truck had enough umph to take the frontage road along with the other motorized vehicles. Secondly, I wondered why she was so scared of a toy truck following her.
Well, my wife (she graduated from law school and is a practicing attorney) was eager to explain the difference between her D Cell truck and mine. I thought maybe she had been brought up in a richer neighborhood and was able to get a genuine Hasbro. Mine was a hand-me-down that still worked pretty well. When she lowered the boom and explained that D Cells were the same as long-hauls I was stunned. I quickly understood the cause of her panic. That’s one fear that my wife and I both share. Having had, as a kid, a lot of small D Cell buddies, it’s going to take me a while to adjust to the new terminology.
When a D Cell gets behind me on the freeway, it doesn’t matter if I’m in the right or the left lane, I move over to the other lane as quickly as possible. They can have all the right-of-way they want, even if they don’t deserve it. I don’t feel any inner satisfaction if I pass them in the right lane, I don’t giggle to myself if they have to go slower when they are in the left lane, I don’t feel any rancor or animosity against them. They Rule! If they want, I’ll get off the freeway, or drive in the gravel on the side and they can use both (or all three) lanes.
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