Some people want tubes, some want flying cars, Star Trek transporter machines or even those big pod things that Jeff Goldblum used to accidentally turn himself into the card-carrying, wall-crawling, stomach-turning captain of the leprosy task force in The Fly.
Personally, I just want people to get the hell out of the way. Your favorite MC, Ludacris, wrote a pretty accurate and undeniably important track called "MOVE" a few years ago, and I'm confident that as long as cars still exist, that song will be extremely relevant.
It's a really simple concept that I've noticed 90% of truckers have figured out. You use the right-hand lane to cruise... and if you need to, move to the left-hand lane to pass. You'd think that shit would be as simple as opening a can of soup or kissing somebody on the mouth, but unfortunately for me and other annoyed drivers, it's seemingly as complicated as defeating a Rubik's Cube blindfolded or getting a good acting performance out of Nicolas Cage. It's possible, but there are only a few human beings on the planet who can pull it off. Hell, David Blaine sold his soul to the devil to figure out those kinds of conundrums.
Anyway, so I've noticed lately that people love that left-hand lane. Except they don't love it for passing other cars. No, they love it for looking at birds, counting pine trees, telling hilarious stories about last night's keg party or gratuitous (albeit hilarious) stories about all the times they've had sex with a barnyard animal and NOT gotten caught.
These people absolutely suck.
I can clearly see that rearview mirror. But yet... they treat that rearview mirror the same way an ex-high-school-football-superstar father treats his late-blooming, Dungeons and Dragons-playing son: like it doesn't even freakin' exist. If these people were to just barely glance into that mirror with their peripheral vision, they could see a vehicle behind them who'd like nothing more than to just get home. This vehicle is probably right up on their ass by this point. This driver behind them is probably waving their arms in a "get the hell out of my way" motion. Instead of helping out a fellow human being traveller by simply moving their steering wheel an inch to the right... they'd rather do 50 in a 70 and talk about the newest recipe for carrot cake that Martha Stewart mentioned last year, how much they agree with Bob Barker's latest stance on spaying their cat, or even better: zone completely out like a f'n driving corpse.
Then... there are those people out there who do this just for fun.
Last night I was traveling home on an easy 2 1/2 hour drive. I encountered what seemed like 50 of these drivers, but the most hilarious was this giant black SUV. These guys were doing the speed limit, sure. But they were cruising along in the left lane, holding up myself and the four other cars behind me who wanted desperately to get by. When the SUV got in the clear, instead of changing lanes to let everyone else by... they just stay right in that lovely left lane.
From here it's a struggle of willpower. Who will give in first? Will I move to the right-hand lane and pass them? Will they be courteous and move out of the way?
I just decided to ride their ass until they moved into the clear right-hand lane. Was I being a dick?
Probably.
But why couldn't they just move their steering wheel one inch to the right and help a guy out?
After a minute or two, I broke down and moved to the right lane to pass the bastards. However, when I did... they speeded up. I speeded up. Soon we were side-by-side doing 90 miles per hour. When I hit 95, I thought to myself... this is hilarious. But when I let off the gas and coasted back down to 80, so did they. I half expected the dark, tinted windows to roll down, revealing an AK-47 or at least a brick from some sidewalk.
But there was nothing. Then something even more hilarious happened... they actually ran into another dumbass riding at 60 in the left-hand lane. They got busted by their own maneuver. Luckily they took the next exit and I went home both bullet- and brick-free.
I can totally understand how this thing happens; I have a few theories:
1. The night before their trip, the ghost of one of their dead ancestors appeared to them in some dream and explained in detail how their entire family history was built on being douchebags. Now it's up to THEM to carry on the douchebag tradition by screwing with tired travelers and regular andrenaline-pumping dudes rushing their screaming, water-breaking pregnant wives to the hospital.
2. When they took the Driver's Education class in high school, they probably didn't learn much from the jaded, chip-on-shoulder, balding mid-life-crisis instructor who's wife just left him for a guy who doesn't cry during sex or get angry every time his wife used the phrase, "this toilet has been broken for the last month; can you take your dick out of your hand, put down the Victoria's Secret catalog and fix this thing?"
One trip out on the town with this guy will have every 16 year old in the school turning without signaling, doing 30 in the left-hand lane and smashing deliberately into every single BMW convertible driven by a guy who may or may not have slept with his wife last night.
3. Not only did they cheat on the driver's license exam, they hired an illegal immigrant day laborer to put on a wig and pose as them while they had sex with one of those barnyard animals I mentioned earlier. And let me clarify even more: unprotected sex with one of those barnyard animals I mentioned earlier.
4. The car is actually a robot and the person inside is a hologram. A hologram who has regular unprotected sex with one of those barnyard animals I mentioned earlier.
I'm sure you can come up with a hundred more theories about this phenomenon, but those are the first ones that popped into my head.
Let's cut down to brass tax here, people. That left lane is for passing. That right lane is for cruising. If somebody speeds up behind you, let's face it, it's not your job to slow them down. It's your job to get the hell out of the way and enjoy those birds, pine trees and dreaming of eating human flesh in the OTHER lane.
I write a blog post about it.
But some other guy might have guns.
Or bricks.
Drive safe, readers.
-M
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