My friend who is known as Silver Stripes to everyone but me, and who also submitted this story, submitted me the granddaddy of all stories today. Now, technically this has nothing to do with driving in itself, at the same time as it does. It's more of a road sign kind of thing, but we felt it belonged on here.
Please feast your eyes on this puppy.
I had seen this before, but it still kills. Really...kills. Get it? Kills...because they're zombies and they're the undead? Oh fine, don't play along.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Monday, August 3, 2009
It's Almost Like We're Stuck In Neutral
Hey everyone! I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I am not ignoring this blog. I just don't have anything to post. Sure, I could post my own stories on here for days, but it just doesn't seem fair. I'm awaiting some awesome stories so that we can put this puppy in drive and continue on our journey. So, if you have one of those stories and would like to join my other contributors, just remember, all you have to do is e-mail me at RubyTwilight@verizon.net. Make the subject "It's Traffic Time," and include your state, but nothing else. If you would like your first name or a code name attached to the blog, let me know, otherwise you will remain anonymous. And just remember, all rights to the stories belong to you and you alone. You are just consenting to letting me post it on the blog. See? I'm easy to get along with.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Ticket? What Ticket?
The story for today comes to us via an anonymous writer. She was gracious enough to share her story with us, and boy is it a good one. I can't say I've ever had this happen to me in such an extreme capacity, but it really made me start to wonder if some older people should have their license revoked. It's not that I think all older people are incapable of driving correctly, or comprehending clear and simple instruction and direction, but this story just proves that some of them absolutely are.
I traveled from point A to point B every weekend last year. It was about 100 miles each way, and was not an enjoyable trip. The only reason I did it was for work. Let's just say I really liked my job, and the people I worked with, and couldn't find anything else where I had moved to. The first 45 minutes of the drive is winding roads and hills, with only one lane each way. I always got stuck behind trucks who can't seem to manage going up the hills without practically stopping. By the time I get to the turnpike, I am about 40 minutes from home, but am ready to be there NOW!
Well, on one of these many trips home, I encountered an elderly woman who apparently has never been on the turnpike before, or any other toll road for that matter. As I am coming to the booth, a car cuts right in front of me. I am in a hurry, and not in the mood for it, but I ignore it, and think it's just a second more I have to wait. Boy, was I wrong. After sitting behind the car for a minute, without the driver reaching for a ticket, I start to wonder what's going on. I would have backed out and went to another lane, but there were about 5 cars behind me at this point.
As we sit there, I see the woman get out of her car, completely, and start walking around. I am in disbelief. This is NOT A REST STOP! She walks to my car, and asks me where she is at, and how she can get to...Oakwood, I think she said. I do not know the area, and tell her so. But I tell her that she has to get a ticket and move on, because she is backing up everyone else.
"A ticket? Where do I get that?" (Like it's not sticking out right beside her when she stepped out of her car?!?) I tell her, but then she goes to the booth where her ticket is, and pounds on it, yelling,"hey, I need some help out here!" There was no one in that booth, and the man from a couple booths down yells to her, "take a ticket and keep going ma'am!" Ha, like it was going to be that easy!
She starts to walk towards him, across the other lanes, and asks directions. Boy, oh boy. We have probably been sitting there for almost 5 minutes until she decides that she isn't going to take a ticket, and she gets back in her car, and does a loop, going through the lane of the man she was just yelling at, and back off the turnpike. Apparently she was not headed the right way. I was just glad to see her move, and so I got my ticket, and was on my way home.
Wow. Just...wow. I don't think I have words for this post other than that. Oh, and THE TURNPIKE LANES ARE NOT PARKING LANES. This goes out to anyone else who seems to think this, because I know there's several people out there. You may not get out of your car like this woman did, but fiddling with a ticket instead of just driving, or not having your money prepared holds up traffic, too. And it's just not cool, guys. So could we all take this story into consideration and try to be more kind to others. Some people have places they have to be and a time they have to be there. No matter how early they leave, sometimes they just can't anticipate running into people like this. So don't be one of those people. Make driving a happy thing, not a road rage invoking one. Jail cells across America would appreciate your cooperation.
And remember, you, too, may have your story put up on the site. Just send it to RubyTwilight@verizon.net with the subject "It's Traffic Time." Please also include your state, but not your city. You can chose to have a first name or other identification put on your post, or remain anonymous like this writer. You retain all copy rights to the story, and are just agreeing to share it with others.
I traveled from point A to point B every weekend last year. It was about 100 miles each way, and was not an enjoyable trip. The only reason I did it was for work. Let's just say I really liked my job, and the people I worked with, and couldn't find anything else where I had moved to. The first 45 minutes of the drive is winding roads and hills, with only one lane each way. I always got stuck behind trucks who can't seem to manage going up the hills without practically stopping. By the time I get to the turnpike, I am about 40 minutes from home, but am ready to be there NOW!
Well, on one of these many trips home, I encountered an elderly woman who apparently has never been on the turnpike before, or any other toll road for that matter. As I am coming to the booth, a car cuts right in front of me. I am in a hurry, and not in the mood for it, but I ignore it, and think it's just a second more I have to wait. Boy, was I wrong. After sitting behind the car for a minute, without the driver reaching for a ticket, I start to wonder what's going on. I would have backed out and went to another lane, but there were about 5 cars behind me at this point.
As we sit there, I see the woman get out of her car, completely, and start walking around. I am in disbelief. This is NOT A REST STOP! She walks to my car, and asks me where she is at, and how she can get to...Oakwood, I think she said. I do not know the area, and tell her so. But I tell her that she has to get a ticket and move on, because she is backing up everyone else.
"A ticket? Where do I get that?" (Like it's not sticking out right beside her when she stepped out of her car?!?) I tell her, but then she goes to the booth where her ticket is, and pounds on it, yelling,"hey, I need some help out here!" There was no one in that booth, and the man from a couple booths down yells to her, "take a ticket and keep going ma'am!" Ha, like it was going to be that easy!
She starts to walk towards him, across the other lanes, and asks directions. Boy, oh boy. We have probably been sitting there for almost 5 minutes until she decides that she isn't going to take a ticket, and she gets back in her car, and does a loop, going through the lane of the man she was just yelling at, and back off the turnpike. Apparently she was not headed the right way. I was just glad to see her move, and so I got my ticket, and was on my way home.
Wow. Just...wow. I don't think I have words for this post other than that. Oh, and THE TURNPIKE LANES ARE NOT PARKING LANES. This goes out to anyone else who seems to think this, because I know there's several people out there. You may not get out of your car like this woman did, but fiddling with a ticket instead of just driving, or not having your money prepared holds up traffic, too. And it's just not cool, guys. So could we all take this story into consideration and try to be more kind to others. Some people have places they have to be and a time they have to be there. No matter how early they leave, sometimes they just can't anticipate running into people like this. So don't be one of those people. Make driving a happy thing, not a road rage invoking one. Jail cells across America would appreciate your cooperation.
And remember, you, too, may have your story put up on the site. Just send it to RubyTwilight@verizon.net with the subject "It's Traffic Time." Please also include your state, but not your city. You can chose to have a first name or other identification put on your post, or remain anonymous like this writer. You retain all copy rights to the story, and are just agreeing to share it with others.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
It Was A Bad Scene, Man
Hello everyone! (Nope. No crafty other languages this time. You won’t find me doing that again, unless you all want me to say Bonjour. There, I said it. Happy?) I am writing from just a few short days out of surgery. I am still a little groggy and disoriented, or at least that’s how I expect to be. I’m actually writing this the night before I go in, so that I can have something to post to tide you over until I get back on my feet. Oh, and have submissions.
Remember people, it is never too late you e-mail your story to RubyTwilight@verizon.net The story of which you will retain all copyrights to, but are simply agreeing to share on my site. Remember to use the subject “It’s Traffic Time,” and include your state, but not your city. You also can chose for me to put your first name on the blog along with your submission, a nickname, or nothing at all. Your choice. I’m easy to get along with.
So come on! Seize the day! Carpe Diem! You know you want to! (See, I don’t really know Latin either. I can speak quite a few languages, just no more than a few words of each. That doesn’t count, does it?)
Today I would like to share with you a story that happened to me June 19th while on my way to and from Aunt Bev’s house, where I was going to help her pick out a new computer. You can read more about that adventure on my other blog, which you will find here. I’m not forcing you to or anything. It’s just a suggestion. You know, in case you’re bored.
I live in a two stoplight kind of town. Actually, we only had one seriously unnecessary stoplight on the very outskirts of town, so I’m not even sure if it was technically in town, up until last year. Last year is when our small little town, if you could call it that, got the bright idea to make a perfectly safe and awesome three way a four way by adding a bridge that could fit all the cars in the entire town on it at one time. What I’m saying is that the bridge, although big and shiny, was completely unnecessary. There just weren’t enough cars to warrant building it, as the road we had was just fine. I think their intention was to build it for the UPS trucks that were clogging up the main part of town by going through it, but they don’t use the bridge and still insist on clogging up the town, so a lot of good that did. (One day I will tell you the many stories of the UPS drivers around here.)
On my way to Aunt Bev’s I had to go through the stoplight that is unnecessarily there right along with the unnecessary bridge. I mean, we don’t get enough traffic that we needed a stoplight at this four way. We could have done with stop signs. But what do I know anyway? I only live and drive around here, unlike the Penndot workers. *Sigh* Then again, once I tell this story, that could be much like shooting myself in the foot. Maybe I’ve spoke too soon.
When I got to the stoplight it was down. The stoplight facing my way was blinking red, while the one facing the bridge’s way was blinking yellow. They did this on purpose, I am sure, but in retrospect it was a stupid idea. Because you know what happened from here? Everyone pulled up in the straight lanes and turning lanes and SAT THERE.
Oh yeah, did I mention that they put turning lanes in, too? I didn’t. Oh, well they did, so that the whole ten cars that go through there each day can just sit there while they wait for the light to change in the boring turning lane. It was stupid, really. And I think we would have been okay sans the stoplight had there not been the turning lanes, as that just confused people. If they would have left it a normal four way, one lane each way, things would have been more than fine and dandy.
So now what we have is basically the whole ten people who were going to utilize that stoplight that day all just sitting there staring at each other, befuddled because there were people coming at them in all directions, in two lanes each way, as opposed to just one. No one could figure out how to move. They didn’t know how to utilize the road as if there were stop signs there because they were so thrown off by the blinking lights and the over excess of lanes. It was a bad scene, man.
Finally the car in front of me took the first plunge and then everyone put on their big people panties and followed after him, but for awhile there I thought I may grow old and gray while waiting there. Luckily, that did not happen. And then I came back the same way, as it’s really the only way to go to Aunt Bev’s unless you want to take the long way. And where I live, the long way is more like the loooooooong way, if you catch my drift. (If not, we’re kind of in a place where, if you don’t go the ONE way they give you, it will take you a month and a Christmas to go any other way, because you have to go through other towns and out and around everything else. Gah.)
When I came back it was still the same bad scene, only now it was just me and one other guy who, of course, had to be the guy in front of me and going my way. There were no other cars in site, no one coming at him from any direction, and yet he pulled up to the light and stopped dead. He just sat there. Proverbial tumbleweeds rolled by and birds stopped singing as the awkward silence of stupidity fell upon the land. Then, after several minutes of missed common sense, the person realized that the light was not going to stop blinking yellow and pulled out like a teenager in a get away car just “in case” someone else would happen to come. No one had come in those several minutes. Maybe in his older age he was senile? I don’t know.
The moral of the story: our town was perfectly fine before Penndot came in and messed it all up. We never had these issues, no one wondering whose turn it was. It was pure and absolute bliss until Penndot got involved. So thank you Penndot for making people even dumber. I really freaking appreciate it.
Remember people, it is never too late you e-mail your story to RubyTwilight@verizon.net The story of which you will retain all copyrights to, but are simply agreeing to share on my site. Remember to use the subject “It’s Traffic Time,” and include your state, but not your city. You also can chose for me to put your first name on the blog along with your submission, a nickname, or nothing at all. Your choice. I’m easy to get along with.
So come on! Seize the day! Carpe Diem! You know you want to! (See, I don’t really know Latin either. I can speak quite a few languages, just no more than a few words of each. That doesn’t count, does it?)
Today I would like to share with you a story that happened to me June 19th while on my way to and from Aunt Bev’s house, where I was going to help her pick out a new computer. You can read more about that adventure on my other blog, which you will find here. I’m not forcing you to or anything. It’s just a suggestion. You know, in case you’re bored.
I live in a two stoplight kind of town. Actually, we only had one seriously unnecessary stoplight on the very outskirts of town, so I’m not even sure if it was technically in town, up until last year. Last year is when our small little town, if you could call it that, got the bright idea to make a perfectly safe and awesome three way a four way by adding a bridge that could fit all the cars in the entire town on it at one time. What I’m saying is that the bridge, although big and shiny, was completely unnecessary. There just weren’t enough cars to warrant building it, as the road we had was just fine. I think their intention was to build it for the UPS trucks that were clogging up the main part of town by going through it, but they don’t use the bridge and still insist on clogging up the town, so a lot of good that did. (One day I will tell you the many stories of the UPS drivers around here.)
On my way to Aunt Bev’s I had to go through the stoplight that is unnecessarily there right along with the unnecessary bridge. I mean, we don’t get enough traffic that we needed a stoplight at this four way. We could have done with stop signs. But what do I know anyway? I only live and drive around here, unlike the Penndot workers. *Sigh* Then again, once I tell this story, that could be much like shooting myself in the foot. Maybe I’ve spoke too soon.
When I got to the stoplight it was down. The stoplight facing my way was blinking red, while the one facing the bridge’s way was blinking yellow. They did this on purpose, I am sure, but in retrospect it was a stupid idea. Because you know what happened from here? Everyone pulled up in the straight lanes and turning lanes and SAT THERE.
Oh yeah, did I mention that they put turning lanes in, too? I didn’t. Oh, well they did, so that the whole ten cars that go through there each day can just sit there while they wait for the light to change in the boring turning lane. It was stupid, really. And I think we would have been okay sans the stoplight had there not been the turning lanes, as that just confused people. If they would have left it a normal four way, one lane each way, things would have been more than fine and dandy.
So now what we have is basically the whole ten people who were going to utilize that stoplight that day all just sitting there staring at each other, befuddled because there were people coming at them in all directions, in two lanes each way, as opposed to just one. No one could figure out how to move. They didn’t know how to utilize the road as if there were stop signs there because they were so thrown off by the blinking lights and the over excess of lanes. It was a bad scene, man.
Finally the car in front of me took the first plunge and then everyone put on their big people panties and followed after him, but for awhile there I thought I may grow old and gray while waiting there. Luckily, that did not happen. And then I came back the same way, as it’s really the only way to go to Aunt Bev’s unless you want to take the long way. And where I live, the long way is more like the loooooooong way, if you catch my drift. (If not, we’re kind of in a place where, if you don’t go the ONE way they give you, it will take you a month and a Christmas to go any other way, because you have to go through other towns and out and around everything else. Gah.)
When I came back it was still the same bad scene, only now it was just me and one other guy who, of course, had to be the guy in front of me and going my way. There were no other cars in site, no one coming at him from any direction, and yet he pulled up to the light and stopped dead. He just sat there. Proverbial tumbleweeds rolled by and birds stopped singing as the awkward silence of stupidity fell upon the land. Then, after several minutes of missed common sense, the person realized that the light was not going to stop blinking yellow and pulled out like a teenager in a get away car just “in case” someone else would happen to come. No one had come in those several minutes. Maybe in his older age he was senile? I don’t know.
The moral of the story: our town was perfectly fine before Penndot came in and messed it all up. We never had these issues, no one wondering whose turn it was. It was pure and absolute bliss until Penndot got involved. So thank you Penndot for making people even dumber. I really freaking appreciate it.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
What Do You Mean You Can't Magically Drive Through Me?
Hola Amigos! (See what I did there? I tricked you all into thinking that I speak Spanish. I can say those two words and maybe about twenty more, but I can not form a sentence. Ha!) Today's story actually comes from my mom, but instead of writing it up, she relayed the story to me and gave me permission to go hog wild with it. Here goes nothing.
Today my mom was coming home from a "flower show." We'll use the term loosely since it ended up being a few flowers set up in pots in a bank parking lot. For this area, though, for all intents and purposes, that would be a flower show. While driving down the road she decided that she wanted some yummy, yummy Burger King.
The way things are set up on the road she was on, is that there are business on both sides of the very busy main road, with a center lane for turning down the middle. Burger King is on the opposite side of the road than the one she was on, therefore, she had to enter the center lane. At this point she had just come through a red light, which was the same red light that the cars going the opposing direction were slowing down to stop at, as it was now red. She waited in the center lane until they all came to a stop where they usually all ended up backing up to and blocking the Burger King entrance. Easy enough, right? Well, this is where it gets hinky.
As my mom is sitting there, opposing traffic stopped, the last straggler in the line starts to wave and toot her horn at my mom, trying to get her to pull out from the center lane. What this lady apparently was not getting was that she was blocking the entrance to BK with her car, and my mom wanted in there. I have no idea what in the Sam Heck she thought my mom was doing, but she started yelling obscenities at my mom from her car, throwing a fit that my mom wouldn't just drive. The ONLY place she could have been going from the center lane was into BK. There was nowhere else to go from that part of the center lane. Clearly, this lady had a few screws loose, and the rest, well, they were just missing.
I have just one question. Where do these people get their brains? Oh wait, no, two. Can they trade them in for a working one?
Today my mom was coming home from a "flower show." We'll use the term loosely since it ended up being a few flowers set up in pots in a bank parking lot. For this area, though, for all intents and purposes, that would be a flower show. While driving down the road she decided that she wanted some yummy, yummy Burger King.
The way things are set up on the road she was on, is that there are business on both sides of the very busy main road, with a center lane for turning down the middle. Burger King is on the opposite side of the road than the one she was on, therefore, she had to enter the center lane. At this point she had just come through a red light, which was the same red light that the cars going the opposing direction were slowing down to stop at, as it was now red. She waited in the center lane until they all came to a stop where they usually all ended up backing up to and blocking the Burger King entrance. Easy enough, right? Well, this is where it gets hinky.
As my mom is sitting there, opposing traffic stopped, the last straggler in the line starts to wave and toot her horn at my mom, trying to get her to pull out from the center lane. What this lady apparently was not getting was that she was blocking the entrance to BK with her car, and my mom wanted in there. I have no idea what in the Sam Heck she thought my mom was doing, but she started yelling obscenities at my mom from her car, throwing a fit that my mom wouldn't just drive. The ONLY place she could have been going from the center lane was into BK. There was nowhere else to go from that part of the center lane. Clearly, this lady had a few screws loose, and the rest, well, they were just missing.
I have just one question. Where do these people get their brains? Oh wait, no, two. Can they trade them in for a working one?
Saturday, July 11, 2009
No Really, It's Okay...I Have Time!
This story comes to us via a friend of mine, who I will otherwise refer to as Silver Stripes. I just want to thank her for being the first to contribute to this site, other than myself. (I do not count, as I run the site. That would just be cheating.)
I shall have to bake her cookies and send them out to her. Just know, Silver Stripes, that I would send them through the computer screen, but somehow I don't think that's going to work. *Sigh* You can modernize technology all you want, but until baked goods can be sent through e-mail, I will remained impressed but disappointed.
We were leaving my cousin's party and approaching a stoplight when we saw the guy in the car in front of us waving frantically. This is normal enough right? Well then my mom realizes it's a friend of the family who did all the lighting work when we were building our house. Everything's still fine and fairly sane. However, after we both turn the same direction and approach the next stoplight. He's turning left and we're going right. His passenger window is already down, so what does my mom do? She rolls down her window and STARTS A FREAKING CONVERSATION WITH HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD AT THE STOPLIGHT. We find out we should be getting an invite to his wedding soon and he wants to come over and put up some kind of light. This is all well and good information, but isn't it better suited for the phone, standing somewhere, or basically ANYWHERE except in the middle of traffic? While I found the whole situation amusing, I was also pretty embarrassed. I mean she hardly noticed when the light changed.
Oh, Silver Stripes, I have to side with you on this one. This conversation definitely could have waited until a phone was readily available, even if it was for a wedding invite. (I am a HUGE fan of weddings, so I can understand the sentiment of excitement. Other traffic; not so much.) Isn't this just one of those times where you want to hide, frightened and embarrassed on the floor of the car? Parents these days. What shall we do with them? Still, I'm amused and give it a ten! Thank you for sharing!
And remember everyone, you too can tell about your traffic blunder right here on this site! All you have to do is contact me and I will post your story. Here's how:
E-mail me at RubyTwilight@verizon.net
Make sure the subject reads "It's Traffic Time."
If you would like your name and/or a link back to your very own website included in the post, please state that in the e-mail.
If you would also be so kind, please include your state. I'm not asking for a city, area, county, etc. Just the state. It will make it easier for me to tag and organize the blogs as we go.
And remember, I claim no copyrights to any of your stories, but by sending them to me, you are giving me permission to post them on the site, as well as use them to promote the sight. Because if no one's coming to the site, no one is reading your story anyway.
I shall have to bake her cookies and send them out to her. Just know, Silver Stripes, that I would send them through the computer screen, but somehow I don't think that's going to work. *Sigh* You can modernize technology all you want, but until baked goods can be sent through e-mail, I will remained impressed but disappointed.
We were leaving my cousin's party and approaching a stoplight when we saw the guy in the car in front of us waving frantically. This is normal enough right? Well then my mom realizes it's a friend of the family who did all the lighting work when we were building our house. Everything's still fine and fairly sane. However, after we both turn the same direction and approach the next stoplight. He's turning left and we're going right. His passenger window is already down, so what does my mom do? She rolls down her window and STARTS A FREAKING CONVERSATION WITH HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD AT THE STOPLIGHT. We find out we should be getting an invite to his wedding soon and he wants to come over and put up some kind of light. This is all well and good information, but isn't it better suited for the phone, standing somewhere, or basically ANYWHERE except in the middle of traffic? While I found the whole situation amusing, I was also pretty embarrassed. I mean she hardly noticed when the light changed.
Oh, Silver Stripes, I have to side with you on this one. This conversation definitely could have waited until a phone was readily available, even if it was for a wedding invite. (I am a HUGE fan of weddings, so I can understand the sentiment of excitement. Other traffic; not so much.) Isn't this just one of those times where you want to hide, frightened and embarrassed on the floor of the car? Parents these days. What shall we do with them? Still, I'm amused and give it a ten! Thank you for sharing!
And remember everyone, you too can tell about your traffic blunder right here on this site! All you have to do is contact me and I will post your story. Here's how:
E-mail me at RubyTwilight@verizon.net
Make sure the subject reads "It's Traffic Time."
If you would like your name and/or a link back to your very own website included in the post, please state that in the e-mail.
If you would also be so kind, please include your state. I'm not asking for a city, area, county, etc. Just the state. It will make it easier for me to tag and organize the blogs as we go.
And remember, I claim no copyrights to any of your stories, but by sending them to me, you are giving me permission to post them on the site, as well as use them to promote the sight. Because if no one's coming to the site, no one is reading your story anyway.
He's Not Broken Down, He's Just Holding Up Traffic to See What Happens Next
I figured since this was my blog, it would probably be pretty nifty if I kicked things off. In the spirit of this, I bring you my very first traffic story. One of which happened today, no less.
Please keep in mind that I will be posting my own traffic wrecks from time to time. I think it's only fitting that I be not a stranger to my own blog. Besides that, my blog may get lonely if I do not visit it from time to time with my own, true to life text. I wouldn't want to do that, because goodness only knows what wrath one might encounter from a scorned blog. I know that I, personally, do not wish to find out. Are we all on the same page here?
Great! (This is me assuming that we're all on the same page, but not giving you a choice at the very same time. For those of you who said I was not multi-talented it, I challenge you to take it back. You were wrong. Wrong I say! Muahaha!)
Before I even tell my story, I think that I must thank my mom for encouraging me to start a blog such as this. Also, she was the driver when this event I am about to tell occurred, so she is bound to appreciate it like it's going out of style. (See Mom, this is me encouraging you to appreciate the blog. Ooh, could this mean I'm triple talented?)
Okay, with all the casualties out of the way, I now present to you the very first blog about traffic and stupid drivers to ever be posted on this site. (Oh, gosh. It's all too much! I'm tearing up at the thought of christening this every so empty blog. *Wait for it* I'm over it now.)
Today I had a doctor's appointment about an hour away and in the city. Where I am currently living is a far cry from the city, but not so far out that you see the ever so random tumbleweed rolling down the road at a very leisurely pace. Sure, our roads are pretty skinny, windy and are close personal friends with potholes, but I like where I live. (At least that's what I tell myself anyway.) Although going into the city doesn't negate the potholes, it does add more traffic, as well as wider roads and more chances for stupid to occur.
The entire car ride up was plagued with drivers who were vastly unable to understand the concept that the gas peddle is on the right, the brake on the left. (I guess I can see where that would be confusing. Okay, I lie. I can't.) Either that, or they were mighty afraid of that car a good eighty feet in front of them. This did not change when it came to actually moving through a green light like they could tell the difference between red and green, and were not colorblind. Beyond that, I think the speed limit scared them so much that they did the opposite and retracted their speed, driving as slowly as they possibly could just to see if that really could get them pulled over and ticketed. This made for a very trying and elongated drive there.
And why should the drive home be any different, you ask? Well, my friends, I will have you know that other citizens of the weary world also happened to have this same question in mind. So much so that they made darn well sure that this "tradition," as I guess we shall call it, continued through most of the ride home, even though we chose to go home a different way in hopes of avoiding this.
In all fairness, we were also attempting to avoid the tunnels we have here, which were blown through a hill and allow access into the city. The thing with these certain tunnels is that you can always tell the difference between who is local, and who is not when you are driving through them. The locals slow down, so much so that you see turtles sliding past them for the win. While, on the other hand, out-of-towners actually know how to take a tunnel, so they do not reduce their speed, therefore, not holding up traffic. And no, I did not word that backwards. We are a city that is essentially afraid of our own tunnels. I'm pretty sure that takes talent.
This is neither here nor there, but I thought I would share it with you anyway. Aren't you glad I did? Doesn't it brighten your motorized world to know that somewhere in the hills of the grand old USA, there is a town that is so vehicular challenged that they are, in fact, afraid of their own tunnels? I bet you'll really think twice about just how bad your drivers actually are. (Don't worry about thinking past that, though, because I know that you, too, live in a town that is vehicular challenged in its own sad way. I feel your pain. Well, maybe not your exact pain, but the general concept of it; oh yeah, I feel it.)
Now, as we were cruising hungrily on our way home - on a quest to reach the nearest Burger King and scarf down some yummy food, while our stomachs internally told us about how rude it was to not have fed them for several hours - "bad driving" took on a whole new persona. So new that the person wasn't even driving. They were just sitting here.
How is this possible, you ask? What exactly happened, you ponder aimlessly, hoping that I'll stop being witty and get on with the story? Fine, be that way.
As we approached an impending red light, it was very clear to see that there was a car a few in front of us that was broken down in the middle of the road. This was clear for several reasons. One, the light had just turned green, and in return, cars were swerving out of their own lane and into another. Two, unless you went in the other lane, you were bound to enjoy sitting at a stand still until you ran out of gas. And last but not least, three, THERE WAS A CAR VERY OBVIOUSLY SITTING AT A FULL STAND STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, DRIVER'S HAND OUT THE WINDOW, WAVING FOR CARS TO GO AROUND HIM.
You would think this was a self explanatory concept. I mean, if you are driving that means you have a licence. To get a licence, you had to take a test. To take a test, you had to know how to read. And surely if you know how to read, you should be able to understand a simple hand signal brought to you by some poor guy whose hand was stuck as far out the window as it could go, waving wildly, while pointing you into the other lane. Apparently, the last sentence is a total misconception. A lie, if you will.
As all the cars were taking turns, one by one, the car in the front first, moving over into another lane, someone decided to test the boundaries of this concept. They were so crafty that they even decided to go ahead and do their own thing, because that seemed like a much better idea than just going around the guy like any person with half a brain would have done. Usually, I can appreciate a person who does their own thing. This was not one of those times.
Two in front of us, a red truck stops dead behind the broken down car. If that wasn't bad enough, the car behind him also stops dead. We were the next car back, so we decided to break their mold and go around the trio, because we were hungry, there was a Burger King in site, and oh yeah, WE WEREN'T STUPID! As we started around both cars, there was that brief moment of "Oh, how nice. These cars have stopped to help the guy who has broken down." What happened next made me lose my faith in the hope that there was at least one good driver left in Pennsylvania.
The guy in the red truck, a Tool, if you will, proceeded to start honking his horn incessantly at the poor guy who was broken down. This caused the guy who was broken down to wave his hand harder, almost to the point where I was worried it would fall off. And then, in a last ditch effort to help the Tool along, he yelled loudly out his window for the offending truck to go around him. It was so loud that we heard it with our windows up. The Tool in the red truck; not so much.
It was so pathetic that we couldn't deny that it was even a little funny. What made it a large amount of funny was that the guy behind the Tool in the red truck never went around the now double amount of stopped cars. He also sat there like a Tool, but he didn't honk his horn. He must have thought the Tool in the red truck was on to something, because he seemed none the wiser of what was going on. And being that the red truck and this particular car merged together from different directions in a hilarious act of fate, it was clear they were not together. What was unclear was which one was dumber and more oblivious to the vehicular world going on around them.
My mom and I continued to discuss just how amusingly pitiful the situation was as we pulled into the Burger King adjacent from the scene. We made our way through the drive-thru around the back of the building, got our food and popped back out from the yellow brick wall only to find that, you guessed it, Tool number one and Tool number two had not moved. This was a good five minutes later.
Neither had bothered to get out of their car. Tool number one was still honking, Tool two oblivious, and the poor broken down guy still waving his hand exhaustively, while yelling "GO AROUND."
Unfortunately, we had to bid the scene adieu, but seeing as this only happened around twelve hours ago, it's probably safe to say that Tool one and Tool two are probably still sitting there. Whether the broken down car has been moved or not, well, I have to figure that neither of the Tools would notice either way.
So how's that for starting off a blog about traffic blunders and general human stupidity? It was different than your normal "moron driver" story, with just the right amount of originality and tool-ness to drive the point home. Don't you think?
Now, come on everyone. Get involved. Send me you true traffic stories and let's get this blog going. I know you all have some pretty wild ones, so I am prepared to be amazed. To submit a story:
E-mail me at RubyTwilight@verizon.net
Make sure the subject reads "It's Traffic Time."
If you would like your name and/or a link back to your very own website included in the post, please state that in the e-mail.
If you would also be so kind, please include your state. I'm not asking for a city, area, county, etc. Just the state. It will make it easier for me to tag and organize the blogs as we go.
And remember, I claim no copyrights to any of your stories, but by sending them to me, you are giving me permission to post them on the site, as well as use them to promote the sight. Because if no one's coming to the site, no one is reading your story anyway.
Please keep in mind that I will be posting my own traffic wrecks from time to time. I think it's only fitting that I be not a stranger to my own blog. Besides that, my blog may get lonely if I do not visit it from time to time with my own, true to life text. I wouldn't want to do that, because goodness only knows what wrath one might encounter from a scorned blog. I know that I, personally, do not wish to find out. Are we all on the same page here?
Great! (This is me assuming that we're all on the same page, but not giving you a choice at the very same time. For those of you who said I was not multi-talented it, I challenge you to take it back. You were wrong. Wrong I say! Muahaha!)
Before I even tell my story, I think that I must thank my mom for encouraging me to start a blog such as this. Also, she was the driver when this event I am about to tell occurred, so she is bound to appreciate it like it's going out of style. (See Mom, this is me encouraging you to appreciate the blog. Ooh, could this mean I'm triple talented?)
Okay, with all the casualties out of the way, I now present to you the very first blog about traffic and stupid drivers to ever be posted on this site. (Oh, gosh. It's all too much! I'm tearing up at the thought of christening this every so empty blog. *Wait for it* I'm over it now.)
Today I had a doctor's appointment about an hour away and in the city. Where I am currently living is a far cry from the city, but not so far out that you see the ever so random tumbleweed rolling down the road at a very leisurely pace. Sure, our roads are pretty skinny, windy and are close personal friends with potholes, but I like where I live. (At least that's what I tell myself anyway.) Although going into the city doesn't negate the potholes, it does add more traffic, as well as wider roads and more chances for stupid to occur.
The entire car ride up was plagued with drivers who were vastly unable to understand the concept that the gas peddle is on the right, the brake on the left. (I guess I can see where that would be confusing. Okay, I lie. I can't.) Either that, or they were mighty afraid of that car a good eighty feet in front of them. This did not change when it came to actually moving through a green light like they could tell the difference between red and green, and were not colorblind. Beyond that, I think the speed limit scared them so much that they did the opposite and retracted their speed, driving as slowly as they possibly could just to see if that really could get them pulled over and ticketed. This made for a very trying and elongated drive there.
And why should the drive home be any different, you ask? Well, my friends, I will have you know that other citizens of the weary world also happened to have this same question in mind. So much so that they made darn well sure that this "tradition," as I guess we shall call it, continued through most of the ride home, even though we chose to go home a different way in hopes of avoiding this.
In all fairness, we were also attempting to avoid the tunnels we have here, which were blown through a hill and allow access into the city. The thing with these certain tunnels is that you can always tell the difference between who is local, and who is not when you are driving through them. The locals slow down, so much so that you see turtles sliding past them for the win. While, on the other hand, out-of-towners actually know how to take a tunnel, so they do not reduce their speed, therefore, not holding up traffic. And no, I did not word that backwards. We are a city that is essentially afraid of our own tunnels. I'm pretty sure that takes talent.
This is neither here nor there, but I thought I would share it with you anyway. Aren't you glad I did? Doesn't it brighten your motorized world to know that somewhere in the hills of the grand old USA, there is a town that is so vehicular challenged that they are, in fact, afraid of their own tunnels? I bet you'll really think twice about just how bad your drivers actually are. (Don't worry about thinking past that, though, because I know that you, too, live in a town that is vehicular challenged in its own sad way. I feel your pain. Well, maybe not your exact pain, but the general concept of it; oh yeah, I feel it.)
Now, as we were cruising hungrily on our way home - on a quest to reach the nearest Burger King and scarf down some yummy food, while our stomachs internally told us about how rude it was to not have fed them for several hours - "bad driving" took on a whole new persona. So new that the person wasn't even driving. They were just sitting here.
How is this possible, you ask? What exactly happened, you ponder aimlessly, hoping that I'll stop being witty and get on with the story? Fine, be that way.
As we approached an impending red light, it was very clear to see that there was a car a few in front of us that was broken down in the middle of the road. This was clear for several reasons. One, the light had just turned green, and in return, cars were swerving out of their own lane and into another. Two, unless you went in the other lane, you were bound to enjoy sitting at a stand still until you ran out of gas. And last but not least, three, THERE WAS A CAR VERY OBVIOUSLY SITTING AT A FULL STAND STILL IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD, DRIVER'S HAND OUT THE WINDOW, WAVING FOR CARS TO GO AROUND HIM.
You would think this was a self explanatory concept. I mean, if you are driving that means you have a licence. To get a licence, you had to take a test. To take a test, you had to know how to read. And surely if you know how to read, you should be able to understand a simple hand signal brought to you by some poor guy whose hand was stuck as far out the window as it could go, waving wildly, while pointing you into the other lane. Apparently, the last sentence is a total misconception. A lie, if you will.
As all the cars were taking turns, one by one, the car in the front first, moving over into another lane, someone decided to test the boundaries of this concept. They were so crafty that they even decided to go ahead and do their own thing, because that seemed like a much better idea than just going around the guy like any person with half a brain would have done. Usually, I can appreciate a person who does their own thing. This was not one of those times.
Two in front of us, a red truck stops dead behind the broken down car. If that wasn't bad enough, the car behind him also stops dead. We were the next car back, so we decided to break their mold and go around the trio, because we were hungry, there was a Burger King in site, and oh yeah, WE WEREN'T STUPID! As we started around both cars, there was that brief moment of "Oh, how nice. These cars have stopped to help the guy who has broken down." What happened next made me lose my faith in the hope that there was at least one good driver left in Pennsylvania.
The guy in the red truck, a Tool, if you will, proceeded to start honking his horn incessantly at the poor guy who was broken down. This caused the guy who was broken down to wave his hand harder, almost to the point where I was worried it would fall off. And then, in a last ditch effort to help the Tool along, he yelled loudly out his window for the offending truck to go around him. It was so loud that we heard it with our windows up. The Tool in the red truck; not so much.
It was so pathetic that we couldn't deny that it was even a little funny. What made it a large amount of funny was that the guy behind the Tool in the red truck never went around the now double amount of stopped cars. He also sat there like a Tool, but he didn't honk his horn. He must have thought the Tool in the red truck was on to something, because he seemed none the wiser of what was going on. And being that the red truck and this particular car merged together from different directions in a hilarious act of fate, it was clear they were not together. What was unclear was which one was dumber and more oblivious to the vehicular world going on around them.
My mom and I continued to discuss just how amusingly pitiful the situation was as we pulled into the Burger King adjacent from the scene. We made our way through the drive-thru around the back of the building, got our food and popped back out from the yellow brick wall only to find that, you guessed it, Tool number one and Tool number two had not moved. This was a good five minutes later.
Neither had bothered to get out of their car. Tool number one was still honking, Tool two oblivious, and the poor broken down guy still waving his hand exhaustively, while yelling "GO AROUND."
Unfortunately, we had to bid the scene adieu, but seeing as this only happened around twelve hours ago, it's probably safe to say that Tool one and Tool two are probably still sitting there. Whether the broken down car has been moved or not, well, I have to figure that neither of the Tools would notice either way.
So how's that for starting off a blog about traffic blunders and general human stupidity? It was different than your normal "moron driver" story, with just the right amount of originality and tool-ness to drive the point home. Don't you think?
Now, come on everyone. Get involved. Send me you true traffic stories and let's get this blog going. I know you all have some pretty wild ones, so I am prepared to be amazed. To submit a story:
E-mail me at RubyTwilight@verizon.net
Make sure the subject reads "It's Traffic Time."
If you would like your name and/or a link back to your very own website included in the post, please state that in the e-mail.
If you would also be so kind, please include your state. I'm not asking for a city, area, county, etc. Just the state. It will make it easier for me to tag and organize the blogs as we go.
And remember, I claim no copyrights to any of your stories, but by sending them to me, you are giving me permission to post them on the site, as well as use them to promote the sight. Because if no one's coming to the site, no one is reading your story anyway.
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