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So, in October, about halfway through a 2300-mile drive home from my sister's house, I got hit by another driver. I was at the back of a pack of cars, and I guess my gray SUV blended into the scenery, because after the car ahead of me passed, this guy pulled out from the side street, directly into my rear tire. Because of several weird situations, it wasn't until this month that the car was finally repaired. I just got it back last night, around 5pm. Traffic being a wee bit heavy, I opted for a route home that added two miles but made all right turns.
About a mile from the body shop, I nearly got hit. Some moron did basically what happened to me in October, pulled out from the left and nearly wiped out the green SUV in the lefthand driving lane, who was at the back of the pack. Maybe SUV's come with cloaking and nobody told me? I was in the right lane, and the green SUV's rear fender came uncomfortably close to my front fender, when I realized what was happening, hit my brakes, and dodged a little right into the gutter. Okay, crap happens. Took a couple deep breaths, and it was all good.
I take my right turn onto the road that my neighborhood is just off of. Now I'm cruising down a higher-speed, wider road. We're talking heavy traffic, lots of businesses along the road, stoplights every half-mile, and massive suburban neighborhoods are right off the main road, behind the commercial stuff. TON of cars. And I realize my fuel light is now doing the "flash of impending doom" so I need the left lane (darn, couldn't avoid it after all) for the gas station that I like to go to. So when I see a nice opportunity, I slide into the center lane, and start looking for my next opening. There's a sedan kind of close to me in the left lane, but he leans right, and I figure he's changing lanes, so I signal my left before glancing again to double-check where he's at. He doesn't change. He swerves back into the lane. Two or three times. There's plenty of space ahead, though, so I accelerate to take the space ahead of him. He picks up the pace and keeps more or less so that his headlight is even with my bumper.
And he's still f'ing swerving into my lane so much that I'm leaning right and hoping the guy in the next lane is paying attention! Well FINE, Mr. Don't Pass Me, two can play this game! So I let off the gas. And then hit the brake. And finally, finally, he begins to pass me. And swerves his car straight the hell towards MY DOOR! Ok, I'm not fond of the key-scratches that the previous owner left all around the door handle, but I don't want it fixed that badly! I pulled hard to the right, and slammed on the brakes, and he finally gets allllllll the way past me... and now there's nobody to his right, so he begins swerving back and forth across all three lanes, the bike lane, the gutters, every conceivable inch of space. If there weren't a median with bushes down the center, I have no doubt he'd be driving the left side of the road, too.
As he's doing this, reminding me of an eight-year-old on a bicycle, I suddenly notice how strong a resemblance he bears to my great-grandpa. The guy looks to be at least 80 years old. It finally occurs to me, he has NO IDEA he's not driving in his lane.
Just as I put two and two together, he suddenly brakes hard and turns into a retirement community.
Once he was off the road, I finally got into the left lane, and made it to the gas station, where I sat quietly and nibbled on a doughnut for a little while before attempting to finish the 7-mile drive home. Geesh, I know it's a lot to ask, but could we just not aim at my car for one freaking week, after the last accident repairs? And people wonder why I want to be a pilot....
About a mile from the body shop, I nearly got hit. Some moron did basically what happened to me in October, pulled out from the left and nearly wiped out the green SUV in the lefthand driving lane, who was at the back of the pack. Maybe SUV's come with cloaking and nobody told me? I was in the right lane, and the green SUV's rear fender came uncomfortably close to my front fender, when I realized what was happening, hit my brakes, and dodged a little right into the gutter. Okay, crap happens. Took a couple deep breaths, and it was all good.
I take my right turn onto the road that my neighborhood is just off of. Now I'm cruising down a higher-speed, wider road. We're talking heavy traffic, lots of businesses along the road, stoplights every half-mile, and massive suburban neighborhoods are right off the main road, behind the commercial stuff. TON of cars. And I realize my fuel light is now doing the "flash of impending doom" so I need the left lane (darn, couldn't avoid it after all) for the gas station that I like to go to. So when I see a nice opportunity, I slide into the center lane, and start looking for my next opening. There's a sedan kind of close to me in the left lane, but he leans right, and I figure he's changing lanes, so I signal my left before glancing again to double-check where he's at. He doesn't change. He swerves back into the lane. Two or three times. There's plenty of space ahead, though, so I accelerate to take the space ahead of him. He picks up the pace and keeps more or less so that his headlight is even with my bumper.
And he's still f'ing swerving into my lane so much that I'm leaning right and hoping the guy in the next lane is paying attention! Well FINE, Mr. Don't Pass Me, two can play this game! So I let off the gas. And then hit the brake. And finally, finally, he begins to pass me. And swerves his car straight the hell towards MY DOOR! Ok, I'm not fond of the key-scratches that the previous owner left all around the door handle, but I don't want it fixed that badly! I pulled hard to the right, and slammed on the brakes, and he finally gets allllllll the way past me... and now there's nobody to his right, so he begins swerving back and forth across all three lanes, the bike lane, the gutters, every conceivable inch of space. If there weren't a median with bushes down the center, I have no doubt he'd be driving the left side of the road, too.
As he's doing this, reminding me of an eight-year-old on a bicycle, I suddenly notice how strong a resemblance he bears to my great-grandpa. The guy looks to be at least 80 years old. It finally occurs to me, he has NO IDEA he's not driving in his lane.
Just as I put two and two together, he suddenly brakes hard and turns into a retirement community.Once he was off the road, I finally got into the left lane, and made it to the gas station, where I sat quietly and nibbled on a doughnut for a little while before attempting to finish the 7-mile drive home. Geesh, I know it's a lot to ask, but could we just not aim at my car for one freaking week, after the last accident repairs? And people wonder why I want to be a pilot....
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