Have you ever been been driving when suddenly a construction sign appears that you must merge immediately? I’ve been driving 22 years and have never seen a construction sign ominously appear while listening to Men Without Hats. Those signs are planted there. Further, they cannot be a surprise because there are typically preceding signs that warn us about the merge sign. If you are on the interstate, sometimes you have miles of warnings and multitudinous signs advising us of the dreaded lane closure sign.
The conscientious driver merges over to the safe lane as soon as they see the first warning sign. Or they merge over as soon as traffic allows. Then, there’s the other driver who rides the closing lane until the last moment so he can pass as many cars as he can. I hate that. How inconsiderate can someone be to play chicken with the big orange lane closure sign only so he can ‘cut ahead’ in line? Have you seen this person?
I’ve had many opportunities to teach these drivers the error of their ways. Invariably, they always want to cut in front of me right as their lane is closing. I knew it was going to happen, so I move up exceedingly close to the car in front of me. If the cars were standing still, a person wouldn’t be able to walk between my car and the car in front of me. How does this muddy four wheel drive pickup with big stupid tires think he is going to fit? He won’t.
These people try to horn in and I won’t let them. I’d rather end up in a fifty-seven car pileup than let this guy merge over. I really hate how these drivers try to take advantage in an unfortunate situation. I’m sure these same people cut in line at the grocery store. I hate that too, but that’s not what I’m hating on right now.
You would think these drivers would learn that they will never merge in front of me under these circumstances. Any other time and I will let anyone or everyone merge in front of me. I’m the guy driving two miles under the speed limit. I have all the time in the world to get to the pet store to load up on that fifty dollar bag of dog food for Molly.
Invariably, these guys give up on these impromptu games of chicken. I always win and they always merge right behind me. They are always making some mean face flailing their arms around. Then they give me the double bird as if the single bird isn’t satisfactory. I like that.
I like that so much that I give them thumbs up. I enjoy seeing their anger towards me so much that I roll my window down and stick my arm out the window so I can give an unfettered thumbs up. If they don’t seem to appreciate one thumb, they sure appreciate when I stick my second arm out the window for the coup de grace: the double thumbs up while my car is careening toward the closed lane filled with backhoes and hardhats. That’s fitting, since I’m listening to the Safety Dance.