Road Rage ala Mommy – Pt. 1 The Ugly

3 Mar

This turned out to be a very long blog, so I’ve put it in two posts for those that may not have the time to waste reading it. This blog is full of expletives. Viewer discretion is advised. 😛

Bitch of the Day:

When thinking about what I would write yesterday, I had almost decided to skip the ‘Bitch of the Day’ part. Nothing terribly noteworthy happened that warranted an all-out bitch. The worst part of my day was boredom. I had a million and one things I could have done to prevent being bored but no gumption to do any of them. I mean, if you know me, you know I didn’t sit around on my ass. I cleaned up after my disgusting children ALL DAY, managed a load of laundry and made dinner. Exciting shit, I’ll tell ya. Certainly nothing you want to read about. Therefore, I was going to give everyone a reprieve from my bitchiness and just head on to the happy portion of the blog. That was, until I had to go grocery shopping.

The drive there was uneventful. The shopping experience was awesome – I’ll explain in the Bitchin’ section. It wasn’t until leaving the parking lot that things started to go down hill and really piss me off.

I realize it was later in the evening and there weren’t many people driving around, but that doesn’t give random dillholes the right to drive any which way they damn well please. As I was driving down the aisle to exit the parking lot of the grocery store, some good ol’ boy in a huge pick-up decided he was going to cut across the entire lot and nearly ran into the side of my truck. If that wasn’t bad enough, when I got to the end of the aisle and turned right, he once again tried cutting in front of me by dissecting the lot. This time, he almost hit my passenger side fender. I’m positive my face was purple from screaming at him. If I had had a gun, I’m pretty sure I would’ve shot him. Though, judging from the size of his truck, I’m betting the size of his dick is punishment enough. Overcompensate much? Oh, it gets better.

Still shaking from my parking lot adventure, I pulled out onto the highway to make my way home. I was driving in the left lane when in my peripheral vision I see something coming towards me. Another short-dicked man big pick-up truck is drifting all the way from the right turn only lane towards the left turn only lane at approximately the speed of snot. I was not traveling at the speed of snot, I was traveling at 55 mph. I had to slam on my brakes, screeching tires and all, to keep from hitting him as he crossed my lane. To add insult to injury, a car traveling on the opposite side of the highway decided that this would be an opportune time to pull a u-turn. Even though I had the green light in the 55 mph zone……..and was already halfway through the intersection (albeit crookedly from slamming on the brakes due to the previous asshole.) For whatever reason, this old bitch thought it was A-OK to pull on out in front of me. I had to slam on my brakes AGAIN. My heart was pounding so hard, I shouldn’t have to do any cardio for a month. I swear, my ass was so puckered to the seat, I probably left teeth marks. I should have let any one of these three assholes hit me. I need a new car. I would have happily let one of them buy it for me. Fuckers.

There are places I refuse to drive because people are so nuts it makes me nauseous just thinking about even getting in a car, much less driving one. Virginia Beach? Hell no. I almost died the first 45 minutes I was in a car there. Memphis? No thanks. I don’t enjoy freeways that just abruptly turn to rock and rubble with no advanced warning. Atlanta? I’d rather have a hot poker stuck in a certain orifice than drive there again. But here? Where I live? Hands down, worst driving experiences in my life. If you are from here and drive here, I’m not talking about you. I’d never talk shit about you. I love you, you read my blog. 🙂 I’m talking about THEM.

Those who constantly come over in my lane, making me swerve or slam on my brakes. This happens at least once a week – no shit. I don’t drive a tiny Hyundai Accent. I drive an SUV, it’s hard to miss. Last time I checked, it wasn’t fucking invisible. Those shiny things attached to cars and windshields are called MIRRORS. Use them, dickheads.

Those who ride my ass every single day on the way to pick up my son. The route I take is composed of old highways. There are four school zones on that route where the speed limit is 20 mph. There is also a very large construction zone that is 25 mph. Lots and lots of cops troll these zones, just itchin’ to write a ticket. Since I just received a ticket in October while driving in one of the aforementioned school zones, I ain’t speeding for nobody. But the bitch behind me in Mercedes-Benz station wagon, who must be late for her latte and Jazzercise class, doesn’t give two shits about adhering to traffic laws. She is therefore: riding my ass, honking, flipping me off, swerving into oncoming traffic to see if she can go around me. This kind of behavior happens all the time. Where the hell is the cop that pulled me over for doing THIRTY mph while this shit is going on?

Those who drive at an absurdly lower rate of speed than designated for the area. There is one sweet spot on my daily commute where the speed limit is 55 mph. Never happens. Never do I actually get to drive 55 mph. I get stuck behind someone everyday that is going 40 mph if not 30 mph. You want to see me have a near-stroke? Ride with me while I’m stuck behind one of these assholes on that part of the commute. I’m sure you will see veins protruding from my forehead. You will certainly hear me, that’s for sure.

My two youngest children ride with me to pick up the oldest from school. It’s a good thing they do because I’m less likely to go completely batshit in front of my kids. Otherwise, I might yank someone from their car and beat the living shit out of them for having a total disregard for anyone else’s safety. Almost everyday, assholes are putting me and my children at risk just so they can get to someplace they think is important, like the MALL.

Here’s where I admit shame for my response to shitty drivers: I have yet to master the art of editing myself when I’m full of rage. Word vomit flies out before I even have the chance to think about censoring myself. Loud, angry, expletive-filled word vomit. Luckily, most times the young ones nap during the ride and miss me screaming ‘Douchebag!’ repeatedly. Sometimes they don’t. Which is why my daughter can sometimes be caught saying, “What the FUCK?!” *hangs head* Yep, my daughter overheard me say that once in the truck and now she says it here and there sporadically. My husband and I have been trying to convince her that the word is ‘fork’. So when she says it while we’re in public, we’ll say, “No honey, you don’t need a FORK.” I can’t get my daughter to say the word ‘Please’ but I got her to say that word. I am awesome.

See Pt. 2 The Good for the Bitchin’ Moment of the Day.

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One Response to “Road Rage ala Mommy – Pt. 1 The Ugly”

  1. Heather March 4, 2011 at 2:13 pm #

    i could be having a perfectly swell day until i get into the car. idiots.

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