REAL LIFE
An Open Letter to the Driver in Front of Me
This may have happened before I learned how to control my road rage
Dearest driver in front of me,
Get the fuck out of my way.
That is all.
I lied. That is not all. Because you have awoken the beast and I want the last 728 blocks of my life back. Yes, it’s probably less, but I’ve aged back here, behind you.
You know when people pretend to drive, and they mime holding the wheel and turning it side to side? I’m quite certain that you're actually driving this way. But y’see, I’m stuck behind you and can’t get around to confirm.
I’m wondering if you’ve passed out at the wheel, in which case, you’re actually not doing too badly.
Regardless, I have endured your painful driving far too long and I have a few things I’d like to get off my chest:
- It’s quite obvious that you don’t care how quickly you get where you are going, but I sure as hell do! Your desire to go 20 below the limit (in the passing lane no less) is fueling my desire to accelerate up your tailpipe
- Not only are you mind-numbingly slow, but you are really struggling to keep it straight. Seriously, dude. What’s up? That side to side wheel thing is just for when you're pretending to drive.
- Have you not seen me flailing my arms in disbelief? You must have, I closely resemble Animal from the Muppets, ripping a kick-ass drum solo.
- My WTF stare is not for my benefit, in fact, quite the opposite; the constantly raised eyebrows increase my need for Botox every day. People like you keep dermatologists busy! They should be giving you a kickback which you, in turn, should spend on driving lessons. Or a bus pass.
- My horn is not quiet. I know you can hear it. It’s very rude to ignore people.
Mazel Tov! You finally figured out that the left lane is for drivers while mouth-breathers like you belong in the curb lane (but alas, you will still leave me gobsmacked with your ineptitude, just wait).
So, now I get to pull up beside you and give you my most sincere WTF face. I have some thoughts in the few seconds it takes to do this:
- Is it safe to pass? Your history of road sharing is questionable.
- What am I going to find when I get up there? Maybe I shouldn't give you my WTF face after all…you’re probably some fragile old lady who can’t see above the wheel, or perhaps some scrawny teen, on the road alone for the first time. Maybe I should practice some understanding.
- And lastly….wait, let me get out of the bullet points here…because this needs its own space…
I finally see why you were swerving. It’s because you were shaving.
YOU WERE SHAVING WHILE DRIVING!!!!
I…I just…um, how?…why?…
Your visor is flipped down and the mirror is open. The light from the mirror casts a sickly yellow glow on your face.
And there you are, in all your glory…not looking at the road one bit. You are focused as hell on your scruff and your lame-ass, circa 1967 electric shaver. While driving. At night.
You see, dear driver, this is the main reason I am writing to you. I have it on good authority that this act of personal grooming, whilst operating a large hunk of steel, barreling down a roadway, is generally frowned upon.
The contortions of my WTF face are reaching epic levels as I search for understanding (my dermatologist thanks you).
You never even noticed me. That takes talent, I’m not subtle. Frankly, I’m a bit offended.
Now that I am home and no longer at your mercy, I just have to know…where were you going? How is it that you were so pressed for time that you just had to shave in the car, and yet driving so slow that I could have passed you on foot?
I tried doing the math in my head. Did you ever consider that shaving in the car, but driving half the speed limit, may not be saving you the time you think it is?
Trying to recreate your thought process is exhausting, so I am going to call it a night.
Let’s be best friends forever,
Deb