Driving Mr. Dups


For the first time in six years I am driving into work on a daily basis. My policy has always been to live near work so that I would not have to deal with commuter traffic, but with my decision to move to downtown Edmonton I am no longer a stone’s throw away from the office. This means that every morning I shove myself into the daily streams of motor-vehicular run-off.

And this means dealing with other drivers on a regular basis.

One of the great failings of the Internet has been the ability for people to be annoying anonymously. Hardly anyone would be mean to people if you had to go have a chat with that person face-to-face. The same holds true for drivers. We’re cocooned in our little four doors, strapped to our seats and touching the road vicariously through the steering wheel, gears and the pedals. In our little worlds we can scream, shout, laugh, sing, cry, lament, soliloquise, berate, snooze, drink, eat, and well, do just about anything we please. For some reason, the fact that there are windows doesn’t seem to faze people at all. Apparently, the windows in a car are only for seeing out. Behind that steering wheel, we are transformed into powerful, childish, idiotic and somewhat selfish beings.

I find that I am being greatly entertained by watching people drive. Last week, and it might have had something to do with the cute girl that was driving behind me, I started thinking about how driving styles might compare to what these people did in bed or with sex. I spent that morning driving in a daze categorizing the players in our little life drama.

The Screamer: These are the vocal drivers who are ready to start screaming at you from behind their wheel on a moment’s notice. An excitable lot, only a small little screw-up is enough to set them off.

The Spooner: The driver who refuses to get out of your blind spot and stays glued to the side of your car in an almost loving embrace.

The Stalker: The one who drives in your wake hoping that you will go through a speed trap and shield them.

The Premature Ejaculator: This is that driver that always wants the green light before the green light is even there. I’m sure they’re quite impatient in all aspects of their life and probably come to quick conclusions.

The Doggy Style Afficianado: These are the wonderful drivers who are always about two inches behind you. They follow without any thought of the fact that slight pressure on the brakes from you would send them careening through your back window.

And finally:

The Pimp: The driver who is always on the phone, chatting away and doing business with goodness-knows who with a coffee in the other hand and checking out the “bidness” in the other cars. All they would need is a leopard-print outfit and a giant purple fedora.

Yes, I get bored easily in my, now routine, morning commutes.

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