This morning, from the get go, I had a sneaking feeling that it was one of 'those' days. A driving in day where I'd attract all the morons, all the ignorant, slow driving, lane hogging, inconsiderate knuckleheads in Melbourne. It started on the first stretch on the back way to Eastlink. Two construction vehicles in front of the Toyota in front of me. Unable to accelerate properly, hogging the entire lane. This is a back lane. They shouldn't be on in. And this guy in front of me, well.....he's no help. Content to dawdle behind them. I started to get really mad at them. Who the fuck do they think they are driving on this road? But I chilled out, hey - it's a democracy. Let 'em get on it, just turn off.....
They turned, and the guy in front of me pulled over all the way to the left to do a right hand turn, which was brilliant, cause I had to wait for him to pick his nose, scratch his arse, and wait until he couldn't see a car for miles to turn into the t-intersection. My anger returned, and I was fuming, screaming at the knob-jockey in front to fucking pull out, you fucking dipshit.
Road rage beginning? I did my left hand turn and resolved to let it go. Don't work myself up into a fury, I said to myself....not worth it just to get to work 1 minute earlier. So I again resumed my journey. I have a thing. If the speed limit says 80, I like to be ON 80. I can do it; I have cruise control. It's easy. So I'm looking forward to getting on the freeway, where I can just hit the button, and sit on a constant speed.
Before the freeway I have to sit behind three cars and a dump truck. The dump truck is doing 40 on an 80. I'm not even grumbling now. It clearly IS one of those days. The dump truck abruptly turns left, and I laugh. What a fuckhead.
Finally, I'm on the freeway. Often, Eastlink is like one's own private road, there are normally that few drivers on it, but this morning (of course), I seem to have merged my way into the middle of grannie club on a Sunday outing. A clump of vehicles, doing various speeds in all the 4 lanes, NONE of them using the cruise control that their modern cars have.
ARGHHHHH!!! I just want to get out, get off, stop. I want to ask each of them where their common sense is? Surely, it's cheaper, easier, less stressful to find a speed on cruise control, and just point the fucking car in the direction that you're going? Everywhere I look, I see a road user who is IN MY WAY.
I merge onto Monash freeway. The speed limit is 100. Everyone's doing 90. No reason that I can see, it's pretty early in the morning, the freeway is relatively clear. I make my way into the far right hand lane. At least in this lane, there's a chance I'm out of the middling lanes. And I am. I can finally sit on 102km per hour. I hit the cruise, and relax. 20 minutes to my next turn off. That's what the traffic display says. I can deal with that. EASY. Just sit on this speed, and Bob's my Mum's brother.
You know where this is going don't you? This commute doesn't end there. No way.
You're right. This day, I attract fuckheads like shit attracts flies. The first inconsiderate moron cuts in the 5 meter space between me and the car in front to slow down to 90. WHY? I scream frustrated? What was the fucking point? You could have sat in the lane you were in and done the same speed. FARK!!!! So I indicate left, and move to the far left hand lane (still on cruise control) 1 minute later I'm back in the right hand lane, the first IM (inconsiderate Moron) now two cars behind me. 14 minutes to work.
At 8 minutes, the traffic suddenly slows. Then halts completely. What happened? Accident? Cops? Nothing. Curiously, the traffic resumes its normal flow, with heaps of space in front, and no sign of anything unusual occurring. It's as if the traffic is a lumbering giant, momentarily distracted, by what I can't tell, but can only guess. Probably a fuck-knuckle attempting a lane merge by doing 55 in a 100 and using 2 kms of road to do it.
Slow cars are still monopolizing my journey, but I've stopped resisting now. I'm almost at work. What does it matter? They're everywhere, these people who get in my way. They're like a plague, or an ant farm filled with brainless automatons in tanks. I slow down to 55, forget I have an indicator, weave into random lanes and revel in joining the troupe.
I notice, for the first time, my rear view mirror, and see a purple-faced apoplectic driver screaming silently seemingly at me? What? What did I do to make you so upset? I laugh to myself, raise my left arm, extend my middle digit and slow down, to turn into my car park.
He roars past me screaming obscenities.
I don't know what HIS problem is.
Fuckhead.
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