Passing Aggressive

I don’t imagine many people would listen to a stand-up comedian who bitches about traffic and the same rule probably applies for comedic writers eager to share their frustration with the daily routine that is the commute.  However I’ve come up with an innovative and relatively harmless way of shedding my aggression, sticking it to the man, and retaining a zen-like mischievous calm.

You see when I’m driving, sometimes 2 to 4 hours a day, I see my share of aggressive pass-happy idiots. Who forgo blinkers and speed laws as well as common sense, to reach the nexus of Douchebag known as “Motherfucker”

Every day I see people spend time weaving in and out of traffic in complicated spiraling and often dangerous ways in an effort to show people they will never see, that they are angry at life and don’t understand traffic. Here’s some easy tips to recognize your classic “Motherfucker”

• Fancy or Shitty Cars. It’s not usually a Honda or a Chevy that contains a motherfucker. It’s generally a late-model  Mercedes  convertible or a half-spray painted Ford Festiva. There isn’t much  in-between. Apparently the extremely poor and rich are always late for that next appointment, with their crack dealer.
• No Blinkers, regardless of car, the first one you see to swap lanes or merge without even a hint of blinker is probably on his way to douchiness.
• Cell Phones… Now in california it’s a law now to not speak on your cell phone, at least not with it held up to your ear, I generally agree that headsets should be used and cell phone in-car should be used sparingly, but your up and coming MF will likely have a large handset plastered against their ear while making lane changes, merging, parking, crashing, or bleeding to death. It’s one very important phone call people!
• Also watch for dangling cigarettes, dice on the mirror, being female, or anyone executing child discipline…

Now that we’ve made some effort to determine what the average MF warning signs are, it’s important understand both my actions and my philosophy. I’ll start by justifying myself in saying.

“Passing me, will not get you where you are going any faster”

Sounds simple and maybe even wrong, but in practice it’s not. I can’t speak for everyone but I’m a fairly experienced commuter, I get in the fast lane and stay there until I have to leave, I don’t nervously shift lanes when traffic slows, and I don’t rubberneck or rummage around the floor of my car looking for the ark of the  covenant. Yet countless times I see a complete waste of human breathing air aggressively pass me and maybe even several other people, at unsafe speeds with no margin for error and almost always, in the middle of heavy traffic. WHY?

You see the practice of shifting lanes constantly (and like an asshole) means that you take every ‘slot’ or opportunity that arises, however due to the intricacies that is the hive-mind of traffic this will almost always result in 1 step forward, 2 steps back implementation. As heavy traffic has no “system” to beat, aside from having a police siren or illegally driving on the shoulder (both of which I’ve seen performed by the fabled “Grand Master Douchbags” or “Cocksucking Motherfuckers”)

The inevitable result is that I stay in my lane, obey the laws and watch as they helplessly and angrily get left behind, time and time again, and before long they’re far behind me… who hasn’t changed lanes or speed… once.

Now having seen this demonstrated almost daily and proven to be true about 90 percent of the time. I’ve come up with a way to make myself feel better and to give them a direction for their spongy self-loathing rage. Here it is: I don’t let them pass me. But… Adam… doesn’t that mean you would have to work at blocking them. Yes. Absolutely. I block the shit out of them.

Woe betide the fledgling Motherfucker who tries to pass me. Because he’s in for about 20 minutes of total passive aggressive cock-blocking. You see, the passer, never thinks beyond the moment. They see an opportunity, represented here by a 5 foot gap between me and another fellow commuter in front of me. They see that gap and they think to themselves. That gap is in a more forward position than I am, and therefore would improve my standing in this traffic mess I’ve found myself in, also, I have a small penis. (male or female). They immediately move to jam their car unsafely into the tiny spot presented between our two cars in what some would call a ‘safe distance’ But fuck all that, He’s going in, to tailgate someone else, and push me back yet another 20 feet in my attempt to live my life’s dream of not getting murdered by a douchebag.

So instead, I pull forward slightly, making the possible gap, simply impossible. The passer (MF) will then ride alongside me waiting for my concentration to slip, before finally dropping back and looking for a spot behind me, or another opportunity. Eventually though, like a fly to a delectable piece of shit, they return, buzzing around my personal space. Now the stakes are increased, the speed is higher, the gap is bigger. I can almost see the look of man-child-like glee on the face of the passing MF as he moves forward to overtake me. Only to have me pull forward, speed up slightly and block the space again. I’ve played this game for upwards of 30 minutes, once for my personal best was 55 straight minutes of innocently blocking a complete dick in a black Audi (A8).

The key here is not to enrage the other driver, that would be only too easy. No the key is to look INNOCENT. You never make eye contact, turn your head, and above all, never laugh maniacally. Though between you and me it’s happened. The essential idea here is to look like you just happen to be blocking their pass attempt. This only works in relatively dense, fast traffic or else too much opportunity will arise and they will cut you off and get home .00008 seconds faster to beat their wives and hateful white trash children. I’ve made an artistic form of making passing impossible and while I casually whistle to myself in cocoon of zen-like fun, the other driver keeps pounding his fists on his steering wheel in a temper tantrum to fate, wondering why they CANNOT achieve the impossible dream that is pissing me off and tailgating some other guy.

Because I am there… Blocking You. I make it look accidental, but it’s not. I hate you. I hate your 90 mile an hour attempts to get 3 carlengths ahead of me, only to slip behind me 10 minutes later because apparently being a dickface doesn’t come with a decent attention span or brain size. I hate the fact that you’ve spent the last several years wondering what that ‘clicky’ handle does to the left of your steering wheel. I hate the fact that you think passing me will achieve something. I hate the overwhelming idea, that the goal you’re so aggressively and dangerously careening toward is probably nothing even slightly more important than what I’m heading toward.

But I don’t let it get to me, I just put a smile on my face and pull forward slightly. Now quit trying.