Posts Tagged 'driving lessons'

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When I go driving I stay in my lane
But getting cut off it makes me insane

In a nut shell, I was driving on Beverly on a stretch where one lane was closed for construction. The two lanes were merging in the very civilized, and widely accepted, one car per lane manner. When my turn came, the car on my left totally boxed me out, and then gave ME the finger!!!

I was angry.

I was really angry.

But there was seemingly nothing I could do.

Then I had my most brilliant idea of the week. There is something I can do!

I can use the Internets to publicly shame that guy and all drivers like him.

So I now have a twitter account (https://twitter.com/roadrevenge) for that very purpose. Watch out readers, mess with me and I will blast your license place/offense to the universe.

Coolin by day then at night working up a sweat

You know how sometimes you go to a place and you see some gal or guy rocking out to the music? And I don’t mean rocking out in an adorable way, which also happens. I am speaking of the times where a group of people are staring dumbfounded while a lone girl sings aloud while making accompanying hand jesters to “Oops, I Did it Again.” And you feel sorry for this person, and you swear that you will never be this person, because to be this person is a crime?

Sadly, at 7:42p last night, in the vicinity of Beverly and La Jolla, I was that person.

I was driving along after a hard days work [very hard day’s work], feeling a pretty out of it and exhausted. The radio was letting me down as it always does* so I started sifting through my glove box [does anyone actually keep gloves in their glove box?] and found an unmarked CD. Actually, I found about ten or so unmarked CDs, and just randomly plopped one in. All of the aforementioned happened while I was driving, so you can imagine how much my lane mates liked me at this point.

The first song was “Buttons” by Sia. Good song, but not appropriate for my mood. I was thinking something a little less pep and a little more Jeff Buckley, so I skipped ahead to the next track. As the next song started to play, I showed a little apprehension. But by the time the second “Ah, push it” rang out, the volume was already starting to creep up to deafening levels.

At “Ow! Baby! Baby! Salt and Pepas here!” my driver’s seat has turned into a full on 80’s roller rink party. Everything continued going swimmingly well until I got to, “Better make it fast or else I’m gonna get pissed.” I was shucking and jiving like a lunatic when I noticed that there was a car full of peeps to my left, and they¬† were laughing hysterically, taking great lengths to drive right beside me so as to not lose sight of their nights entertainment. When the passenger in the car winked at me, I decided I needed to flee the scene at once and swiftly busted a right. I lost sight of the car, but the mortification followed me all the way home.

Last night, I fell victim to Push It. I became The Girl rocking out while people stared in astonished amusement. And frankly, it felt pretty damn good. Not the being a spectacle part so much, but the part about letting the music overtake you. When I left the office, I was totally bummed and stressed. By the time I arrived at my driveway, I was feeling euphoric about the carefree weekend with perfect weather that was ahead of me. And for this, I have Salt n’ Pepa to thank.

* Speaking of the radio, I like the “I can ride a bike with no handlebars” song as much as the next person, but must it be on the radio 6 times a day? Is there really such a glut in the music industry that the same good song has to played constantly? If so, and I highly doubt that it is actually so, it makes me sad.

Car accidents and other stuff.

1:: About a week ago I hit (a love tap, really) a car in the parking garage at work. It was only half my fault, but of course no one believes that because I have been ordained worst driver in the history of the universe. The car I hit, was of course, parked. Because who doesn’t find parked cars really hard to avoid sometimes? So anyhow, once I hit the car, I threw a total (internal – mostly) temper tantrum.

The temper tantrum consisted of three stages: (A) FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK! This is the seventh car I have hit in as many months. I am so going to lose my insurance. I am such an asshole. Someone stab my face off with a fork. (B) THAT ASSHOLE PARKED LIKE A TOTAL ASSHOLE! That car is totally at fault for parking like such a jerk. Damn him and his stupid expensive looking Audi. Damn him to eternal car damnnationville! (C) WOE IS ME!!! Why can’t I catch a break? First the Evil Troll situation and now THIS?!?! WHY GOD WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO??!?!!

The whole thing took about 90 seconds. Then I left a note and headed home (stopping at taco bell on the way for a double decker with sour cream – you know, comfort food)

Next day, I awaited anxiously for the guy (I don’t know why I assume it is a guy, but I do) to call. No call came. Still feeling guilty, thinking maybe the guy didn’t get my note, I left another note. Now, several days had passed – and STILL NO CALL!!!

So I think maybe the guy doesn’t care that I hit his car? Which would be awesome.

2:: There is this lady who uses the bathroom on my floor (and by “my floor” I mean the floor on which my office is situated) that is totally bat shit crazy (or just really vain). I see her in there all the time literally starring at herself and playing with her hair. This morning, she was in there with a gigante bottle of hair spray going to town on herself. She was spraying like mad woman from the moment I entered until the moment I departed (approx 2.5 minutes). That was 9:05 a. It is now 3:03 p and it still reeks of her hair spray.

To crazy bat shit mad hair spray woman, I beg you, please stop.

3:: Evil Troll FINALLY moved out. God Bless America. Democrats and Republics alike.

4:: I am on a baked potato eating frenzy. Two lunches in a row now, and there is a 70 percent chance of another tomorrow.

5:: This makes my head explode.

6:: Certain Someone and I are no more. I mean, individually, we still exist. He just no longer happens to be my Certain Someone, I suppose. Sad.

Parking. Many try but few succeed.

I am not contending that parking in Los Angeles is always a simple task. Some areas (much of West Hollywood comes to mind) have cars packed within an inch of their life (some might call this “bumper to bumper”). I am talking car all up on the sidewalk action. Still other places have pesky hills AND parking congestion…and we all know parallel parking on a hill is IMPOSSIBLE! For me at least – and since this is really all about me – my truth is your truth.

I concede that sometimes the parking shit show in LA can’t be avoided, but other times I can’t help but see how someone is parking and think – “this person if a mother effing asshole”. For real for real.

And hence this post. I give you:

Part II of Driving Lessons From a Really Bad Driver that May or May Not Suck At Life: Parking.

Parking, like the masterful use of the turn signal, is usually pretty damn easy. There are really only two options. First, we have the parallel park.

Parallel parking is admittedly the trickier of the two parking options. Sometimes, a spot is just the exactish size of your car and requires precision-like understanding of geometry, topography, physics and religion to get into. Those spots, in my opinion, should be left for the pros. Most of us layparkers have no chance in hell of fitting our metal heaps elegantly into such spots. My advice to my readers: if you see such spot – keep moving. If you are reading this blog, you probably are not very smart and should look for something more probable. Jkjkjk, you are BRILLIANT.

Also, if you are in one of those one lane squished up streets (as in, not enough room for two whole calls to fit side by side) and your parallel parking skills are below average, you aren’t allowed to even attempt a park if there are cars waiting to pass. Sorry, those are the breaks. All of Spaulding’s commuters should not have their lives put on hold because you don’t have the skills that should have been acquired by the age of sixteen and a half.

For the larger parallel spots, the rules of etiquette of parallel parking are key. Do not, and I repeat – DO NOT – leave a safe zone buffer of two feet in front of you or behind you. Particularly if you have a piece of shit car. And if you have a fancy car that you are terribly worried about, you should have saved your money and gotten a place with an actual parking garage instead. If I see a you have parked your car so as to prevent anyone from parking in front or behind you, I wish bird poop to fall upon your hood.

The next option is head in parking. This is easy people. The rule is simple. FIT YOUR CAR BETWEEN THE PAINTED LINES. This means, your car may not spill out into the space next to you. Your suburban can not go into a compact space. Your car may not abut 5 feet out into the passing lane. And really, that’s about it.

Them be the rules of parking.

And as for me? I valet.

The Glory of the Turn Singal.

I won’t pretend to be a good driver. Most people who have ever had the displeasure of being a passenger in my car, a couple pedestrians and many a poll in West Hollywood and elsewhere have discovered my utter lack of automobile driving prowess. But if there is one thing I know about cars, it is the turn signal. And more specifically, its usefulness. Nay, IMPERATIVENESS.

I am sad to report, I have come across some eggregious uses (or non uses) of the turn signal of late. And it is for this reason that I have taken it upon my narrow, aborable shoulders to make the streets safer and present you all with this, my Primer on the Glory of the Turn Signal.

Ladies and Gentlemen, the turn signal has two purposes.

One: it should be used when – wait for it – making a turn. Yes, crazy how the world comes together like that sometimes. When you turn left, you indicate your intent to make such turn with a your LEFT turn signal. I emphasis LEFT because making a right turn while flashing your left turn signal does not actually signal anything. Except that you may be an idiot. Now imagine you are driving down the street. One lane. Normal 35 mph speed. And then you want to turn left, and so you do! And you don’t use your turn signal, you rebel. What happens? The poor sucker driving behind you careens into you because said driver was not aware of your intent to slow down from a brisk clip to a crawl in order to turn. This is not a good situation. And this isn’t a Palestine/Israel type conflict that can’t be resolved. There is a handy solution. It is called a turn signal and it comes free with your car. Use it. Please.

Two: it should be used when changing lanes. This is helpful to put the person in the lane next to you on notice that any second, you will moving your massive, steal, several ton potential death trap across a horizontal distance. Again, assigning the appropriate directional signal to your intent is imperative. Right signal follow by lane change to your left? Car accident city. Please take note, the signal is not merely an afterthought. Flashing a signal after you are halfway into the next lane is about as useful as putting your girlfriend on birth control when she is 6 months pregnant.

And finally, even when you think you don’t need to signal because the road is clear. Do it anyway.

– Diet Coke and a Side of Fries, at your service

*sticking “ness” on the end of any word is perfectly acceptable in my world of word usage. Don’t hate.