I don't like the term road rage. I see it as me correcting other drivers very loudly and with relevant hand gestures to further illustrate my point. If only I knew that you could tack 'rage' onto the end of something to turn speaking the truth into a bad thing. I could have accused my teachers of school rage and my parents of home rage. But I doubt I would still be here to type this blog.
There is something about being behind the wheels of a car that turns people into complete idiots on the road. I was chatting to my friend the other day and we both agreed that the hardest part of driving is anticipating other people's movements so you can react accordingly.
I frequently get cut up when walking down the street, but I never respond with anger, profanity or obsene gestures. Most normal people wouldn't, but it suddenly becomes acceptable when in a car. An old friend told me that she had resorted to 'penny dashing' drivers that irritated her. She kept a small pot a pennies at the ready so she could wind down her window and throw them at the offending car(s). It was just hard enough to make a dent/scratch but small enough that the driver would attribute it to a stone accidentally flicked up by a tyre. I found this idea hilarious but had she told me she was doing it to pedestrians on the street, I would have had to call the Police. I probably should have called the Police anyway but a new dent mysteriously appeared on my car after I joked about doing so.
When you're stuck behind a slow driver in the car, you can flash your lights at them, beep your horn or sway from side to side until you find an opening big enough to overtake (making sure to stare into the car and make a note of the driver as you pass). But when you get stuck behind a slow walker in the street, you quietly, albeit angrily, slow down your pace as they morph into Gandalf.
This brings me onto another driving habit I've noticed in recent years. No one uses their indicators properly any more. I always find myself behind people who don't signal at all and just pull over suddenly. Then we have the other prodigies that use their hazard lights as a signal instead. The problem with this, is that both lights are flashing so I am still just as unaware of what direction they are going in, as if they had no lights on at all. Then there's another group of people who decide to start signalling about 5 miles before their turn. It's like a game of road roulette, you never know where their wheel will end up.
Passengers in my car have accused me of tailgating. I prefer to think of myself as a coach, demonstrating a reasonable speed and encouraging others to stick to it.
My mother would fall into the category of unnecessarily slow drivers. I remember getting into an argument with her as she adamantly stuck to 60 mph whilst driving in the fast lane on the M25. I worried that I would have a seizure from the number of cars frantically flashing their lights at us to get us to move over.
Before I get accused of being a speed demon, my gripe is with the people who drive so slowly that they would be better off getting out of their cars and walking. I'm talking about those people who drive so slowly that as you approach them, you can't tell if it's a parked car or not. I always find it funny how they suddenly speed up through the amber light leaving you stuck at the red.
And we all know about perils of texting and driving, but nobody warns you about sneezing and driving. I remember being on the motorway as I had a sneezing fit. I tried my best to keep my head up and my eyes open but then I recalled someone saying that we close our eyes when sneezing to make sure they don't pop out. With this in mind, I continued to sneeze but alternated closing one eye with each sneeze. I had to do it so quickly that it felt like I had strobe lights going off in my car, and all I succeeded in doing was making myself dizzy.
I become irate when I'm stopped at a junction and no one lets me in, especially those drivers that actually block you in at the junction just so they don't have to stop 3 metres earlier to let you out. But then I find myself exasperated by drivers who seem to let the world and it's wife cut in front of them.
I gesticulate at drivers that speed up when I am trying to merge into a lane, but proceed to insult all the other people who merge in front of me, pushing me further back down the line.
I am at my most furious when I let one driver out in front of me (out of the other 20 I passed right by) and they have the nerve not to thank me, vowing to never again let someone cut it front. But I am often too busy retrieving food or changing the music track playing to remember to thank another driver that gave me way.
The number one rule of the road: Nothing is acceptable unless I'm doing it.