The Other Traffic Extreme

Everyone, well, every one of you leadfoots out there anyway, hate it when people drive less than 120 miles an hour in the fast lane. I get that. The fast lane is for the passers, so you ought to let them pass. But there's an opposite side of that coin too: don't race in the curb, slow, lane.

As I drive a lot for my job I do try to stay out of the fast lane unless passing, and these days I will stomp onto the accelerator when so doing, getting back to the right once beyond the obstructing vehicle. Yet there are those numbskulls who want to ride my tailgate in the right lane.

Look, dude, if I'm already five miles over the posted speeds in the slow lane and you can get around me, and you almost always can, then get the Hell around me. You shouldn't tailgate me anyways, but if you do it in the slow lane my foot is coming off the gas, buddy. I've slowed down as far as 35 in those cases. Even if I'm impeding you, because of course you have somewhere critical to get to I'm sure, then you're going to rear end me at as slow a pace as I can force upon the situation.

So, drivers, you wanna speed? Be in the left lane. If you're in the right lane speeding you're the dangerous driver, not me.

Rant. Over.

A Patrick Joke

I'm not a speed demon (well, not much of one) but it does bug me when people don't do the speed limit.

Driving along Canfield Avenue in Detroit yesterday with me Mom and me brother Patrick in the van, I was irritated at the two vehicles in the front of me going 15 in a 25 zone. "Oh come on, folks. The speed limit isn't 15 here!" I complained out loud.

"Then why are you doing it?" Patrick responded from the back seat.

I laughed out loud. Well done, brother, although I still think the cars in front if me could have gotten a move on.

Cosmic traffic justice

I'm not a speed demon by any stretch of the imagination. But I do find myself driving faster than I once did. At one time I kept strictly to the posted limits. Now I crease the envelope a bit. When you drive a lot for your job I suppose it's natural to be in more of a hurry. I'm not justifying it, only explaining it.

Just the same, I have come to resent when folks pass me when I'm already speeding. Really? I'm going too fast myself towards a destination where arrival time isn't actually an issue but you're going somewhere so much more important that you still need to get past me? Maybe it's a passive type of road rage but still, it irritates. That's why what happened yesterday made me all happy inside.

I was motoring along a street almost 10 miles per hour over the speed limit. Yet for this nimrod coming up behind me that wasn't fast enough. He had to pass me. On the right, in the parking lane. He's not only passing me but doing something doubly illegal. I mildly mentally cursed his impertinence but was ready to let it go.

And I did let that feeling go. But I smiled openly when the next four traffic lights caught him, and I caught up to him each time. So you had to pass me, did ya? But now you ain't getting where you're going any more quickly, are ya?

I felt that a certain justice had been done. Cosmic traffic justice, if you will. And I am far too pleased with my attitude towards it.