Idiot Drivers Convention

7 May

Well, there really wasn’t one, but there should have been.  Last weekend, I witnessed more bad driving than I’ve ever seen.  It was awful.  By Sunday, I was seriously beginning to think there was an Idiot Drivers Convention in town.

I live in Minnesota, which is home to “Minnesota Nice”.  Everyone who visits says we’re so friendly…yeah…to your face.  Behind your back, different story.  This is the land of 10,000 passive-aggressive acts.  Unfortunately, most are played out on the road.

The person in the minivan flipping you off at the light because you dared to actually stop for it, would never confront you in the checkout lane, even though you cut in line.  You’ll get the sigh, the eye-roll or under-the-breath murmur, but not a direct interaction.

That’s why it’s idiot central on the roads.  All that pent-up aggression has to be let out somewhere, so why not during rush hour?  What’s wrong with coming to a dead-stop in the middle of the freeway to cut over a couple of lanes to make your exit?

The drivers I love the most are the weekenders.  Friday afternoon, they literally shut off their brains and go into “driving zombie mode”.  For the rest of the weekend, they are tuned out to anyone and everyone around them.  They have somewhere to go, and who cares if anyone’s around.

This is the person who all of a sudden decides to switch lanes because they were too busy blabbing about the latest tuna casserole recipe with Aunt Hazel.  While debating what crap they’re going to put in the jello mold for the Johnson Family Reunion, they’ll miss the stop sign in the parking lot.  Oops.

I wish there was a way these drivers could be tagged, like deer, so you’d know when they were on the roads.  It would be a little GPS chip to let me know where they’re at so I can avoid them like the plague.

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