October 21 - Road Rage and Parking-Lot Punks
What is it about having a few tons of metal between one person and the next that makes one of those persons become a complete idiot? I’m talking, of course, about cars and road rage and parking-lot punks.
It’s not always this way. Sunday was a good day. I almost ran over two people at a crosswalk after church and they didn’t seem to mind. (Actually, I had only inched up a bit and then I saw them.) Shortly after, a guy pulled out his pickup in front of me on Larch St. He didn’t notice me and I had plenty of time to stop. You gotta expect when you’re in the downtown, or in a parking lot, that normal driving is defensive driving (or walking.)
This morning after gym, a person nearly backed into me in the parking lot. I waved, she waved. All good – though I think a fluorescent orange vest might come in hand. Folks are pretty foggy after working out. Then it happened. I was about to pull out into a main artery in the parking lot when this lad came tearing around “my corner.” I stopped, I was only creeping, but the look he gave me – and the hand gesture – you’d think I was launching a nuclear weapon.
My Mom is a very considerate driver, but she is not one to put up with any insult – be it in person, on the phone, or in a parking lot. Me, if I’m waiting for a parking spot and someone else leaps in, I frown and shrug my shoulders, but that’s where it ends. My Mom on the other hand will stop her car behind them, get out and go to the driver’s side, and just blast them. (Verbally, that is.)
My two youngest kids – Caro and Elaine - will never forget this incident. One time their Grannie Marj (my Mom) was at a four way stop at a Mall. She waited her turn and proceeded across. The women to the side of her didn’t see it that way, honked her horn, and shot her finger at her. Mom immediately changed direction, chased the woman across the lot, boxed her in and told her “what for.” The woman – taken aback – explained that she was merely waving at her, to which my Mom responded, “Don’t lie to me.” She then got back into her van.
Thank heavens this isn’t America and people aren’t packing guns. Mind you, my mother could become one of them. She’s a Bellevillian and my hubs describes them as so - “More American than the Americans, but God Save the Queen!”
*****
Tomorrow my hubs, Laurence, and I are heading to Southern Ontario to visit family – London, Belleville, and St. Catharines. Laurence likes to drive and I like to read – so it works. Laurence also likes to vocalize. I hear a Hockey Night in Canada style of play-by-play most of the trip. “Look at that idiot. Doesn’t he know about signaling?” “Strunzo demarco! (An insult he learned from an Italian friend.) Let me into the lane!” And so on.
And this is just at the gas station, filling up on petrol and coffee. Once we get onto the highway, especially when we hit Barrie, things “ramp up” quite a lot.
We’ll be back – Lord-willing and the crick don’t rise – Friday evening. This weekend I’m sure I’ll have a few fun stories and cartoons to write and sketch up. TTYL. (Type to you later.)
It’s not always this way. Sunday was a good day. I almost ran over two people at a crosswalk after church and they didn’t seem to mind. (Actually, I had only inched up a bit and then I saw them.) Shortly after, a guy pulled out his pickup in front of me on Larch St. He didn’t notice me and I had plenty of time to stop. You gotta expect when you’re in the downtown, or in a parking lot, that normal driving is defensive driving (or walking.)
This morning after gym, a person nearly backed into me in the parking lot. I waved, she waved. All good – though I think a fluorescent orange vest might come in hand. Folks are pretty foggy after working out. Then it happened. I was about to pull out into a main artery in the parking lot when this lad came tearing around “my corner.” I stopped, I was only creeping, but the look he gave me – and the hand gesture – you’d think I was launching a nuclear weapon.
My Mom is a very considerate driver, but she is not one to put up with any insult – be it in person, on the phone, or in a parking lot. Me, if I’m waiting for a parking spot and someone else leaps in, I frown and shrug my shoulders, but that’s where it ends. My Mom on the other hand will stop her car behind them, get out and go to the driver’s side, and just blast them. (Verbally, that is.)
My two youngest kids – Caro and Elaine - will never forget this incident. One time their Grannie Marj (my Mom) was at a four way stop at a Mall. She waited her turn and proceeded across. The women to the side of her didn’t see it that way, honked her horn, and shot her finger at her. Mom immediately changed direction, chased the woman across the lot, boxed her in and told her “what for.” The woman – taken aback – explained that she was merely waving at her, to which my Mom responded, “Don’t lie to me.” She then got back into her van.
Thank heavens this isn’t America and people aren’t packing guns. Mind you, my mother could become one of them. She’s a Bellevillian and my hubs describes them as so - “More American than the Americans, but God Save the Queen!”
*****
Tomorrow my hubs, Laurence, and I are heading to Southern Ontario to visit family – London, Belleville, and St. Catharines. Laurence likes to drive and I like to read – so it works. Laurence also likes to vocalize. I hear a Hockey Night in Canada style of play-by-play most of the trip. “Look at that idiot. Doesn’t he know about signaling?” “Strunzo demarco! (An insult he learned from an Italian friend.) Let me into the lane!” And so on.
And this is just at the gas station, filling up on petrol and coffee. Once we get onto the highway, especially when we hit Barrie, things “ramp up” quite a lot.
We’ll be back – Lord-willing and the crick don’t rise – Friday evening. This weekend I’m sure I’ll have a few fun stories and cartoons to write and sketch up. TTYL. (Type to you later.)