They see me rollin’

Want to know a great way to annoy me?

Drive 22 mph in a 30 mph zone. Or be that city bus that I have to drive behind all the way home that makes more than complete stops at every stop sign as well as dropping a single person off at each of the stops.

I’m willing to listen to other opinions on most topics. But when it comes to driving, I stand firm in my position that you’re in my way and you need to move.

In pop culture terms, being stuck behind slow as molasses drivers makes me almost as mad as that one city in Canada was when their hockey team celebrated being second best.

One minute I’m free, cruising down the street, blazing my own trail, and the next a Buick LeSabre decides to slow my roll by pulling out and waiting a block and half before getting up to speed.

Other types of cars are notorious as well, but when it comes to LeSabres, they’re downright fiendish.

But it isn’t just that you’re in my way that bothers me. You see, when you make that complete stop that forces me to do so as well, my gas tank lets out a whimper.

And papa doesn’t like it when his baby cries.
Safety is great, but unless it is a blind corner, you bet I’m going to make like Fred Durst and keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’.  

And then there is the other stereotypical driver I believe everyone has become acquainted with. We’ve all had near death experiences because of them that leave us cursing our dashboards. I refer to them as the texting death queens.

When it comes to priorities, these ladies have it all figured out. Texting what type of booze you want to your friend with the fake ID clearly takes precedent over operating a 1500 lb chunk of metal down the street.

It isn’t only texting though. Talking on the phone while in the car has almost become a pastime of some people, which makes me envy some of the states who have eliminated such stupidity.

Honestly, I’m an excellent driver, and while I can’t give my skill to everyone else, if I had it my way I would remove all of the stops signs in this town and replace the intersections with roundabouts. To put it as elegantly as I can, stops signs are scrubs that get no love from me.

Besides, I hear the ones with the white borders are optional anyway.

­— agreiner@indiana.edu