Hell hath no fury like the interstate

Why driving on the interstate sucks:

Mr. Impatient Pants.

A. Mr. Impatient pants has to pass you on the right.  Sure, you just passed a semi truck and were waiting to be an appropriate distance in front of it before you got back into the right lane, but heavens to Betsy you’re just not getting over fast enough so Mr. Impatient Pants has to scurry around you in the slow lane.

B. Sometimes, Mr. Impatient Pants can only TRY to pass you on the right.  So what if you’re in the passing lane behind 4 or 5 cars all going the same speed around a streamline camper?  Mr. Impatient Pants decides he just can’t wait and he must go around you on the right.  You can’t let this happen.  You KNOW he’ll try to cut you off last minute so that he, too, can go around the camper.  You make sure there’s never enough room between you and Mrs. Mini Van from New York, even if this means tailgating her so bad you can see what radio station she’s listening to.  It works, and Mr. Impatient Pants is forced to brake and wait his turn.  You feel like you’ve won.

C. Mr. Impatient Pants finally gets around you one way or the other and you barely see his car as he flies by.  You stop thinking about him and count to 10 to try to quell your road rage.  There are dogs in the car, for cheese’s sake.  Watch your mouth.  Then, less than 5 miles down the road, Mr. Impatient Pants has forgotten that the gas pedal exists and is cruising along at the speed of an injured earthworm.  Naturally, you ride up on his butt, cursing him for not understanding the meaning of cruise control and then pass him on the left.

D. Mr. Impatient Pants notices your license plate and thinks, “I ALREADY PASSED HER ONCE I CAN’T LET THIS HAPPEN,” and decides to make you his involuntary interstate leapfrog partner.  He cruises up at a steady 3 or 4 mph faster than you and then hangs out near your blind spot for a little while.  You are well aware of his presence and he is happy with himself for making your blood start to boil.  Finally, he increases his speed enough to pass you and then gently glides on over back in front of you where he feels he belongs.  Then he reduces his speed by a tiny fragment, enough so you notice that you’ve slowly started creeping back up on him.  “WHAT THE FRACK, DUDE!  PICK A SPEED! !#$!#%#W%&#%#%@$#%# YOU’RE RUINING MY CRUISING EXPERIENCE.”

E. After what feels like a decade, you’ve failed at delaying the inevitable and you and Mr. Impatient Pants are bumper to bumper again.  You signal and get into the left lane, only to have him swerve in front of you because he waited until the last minute to pass the handicapped sticker driving the Buick.  You resist the urge to flash your brights repeatedly.  You also resist the urge to honk your horn at the risk of startling the handicap sticker into a heart attack and being the cause of a 10-car pile up. 
I wish I was from the Land of Lincoln.  Jealous.
F. Mr. Impatient Pants cruises along in front of you for a while with no real reason.  There’s nobody in the left lane as far as the horizon and he is still going slower than what you HAD your cruise control set at.  “THAT BASTARD IS TRYING TO GET ME TO PASS HIM ON THE RIGHT!  THAT SNEAKY S.O.A.B!” But you won’t.  You’re better than that.  Two can play at this game.  You turn on your right signal, as if you were going to go around him.  He notices.  He’s been paying more attention to his rearview mirror than to the road in front of him.  Before you have the chance to change lanes like he assumes you are going to, he eases over into the right lane in an attempt to thwart your plan.  HAHAHAHA.  You quickly take off your right signal and GUN IT to get around him in the appropriate passing lane.  You are the queen of the interstate.  “EAT MY DUST!”
Mr. Impatient Pants when he realizes he’s lost.
The Ever Changing Speed Limit.
1. Sweet.  It’s 70…you set the cruise control at 79 and think you’re ready for an awesome interstate drive.  WRONG. 

2. Surprise! CONSTRUCTION ZONE!  The speed limit is now 60, the lanes are narrow, and there are seizure inducing concrete barriers on either side of the road!  Don’t sneeze or anything, YOU MIGHT DIE.  Let’s not even get into the lackadaisical lane philosophy of big rig drivers or the need for motorcycles to attack in packs. 

3.You pass into a new city and they’ve decided they need to be different.  Sure, it’s only a 5 mph change, but BY GOLLY they’ve made their point.  TAKE THAT, you cruise control dependent HACK.  I bet you’re driving an automatic transmission, AREN’T YOU?!

Fickle Speed Dude
1. Mr. Impatient Pants’ cousin from Pennsylvania.  Sometimes an annoying neighbor from New Jersey or North Carolina.  Either way, you hate them.

2. Fickle speeders think they are all that.  They whiz past you.  “THAT GUYS GOTTA BE GOING AT LEAST 500 MPH.  HE’S GOING TO CAUSE AN ACCIDENT!”  You think about how badly you want him to get pulled over.  You get tickets for going 6 over but this CLOWN can prance all over the road with no consequences?  You hate your life.

3. But then Fickle Speeder thinks he sees a cop car hiding in the trees and he slams on the brakes and coasts into the right lane.  You eventually pass him and the spot where the phantom patrol car was lurking.  “MAYBE NOW HE LEARNED HIS LESSON!”  

4.Wrong.  Fickle Speeder is back at it, weaving in and out of traffic, driving with his windows rolled down and really really really hoping every one notices how cool his Lincoln Navigator looks with the big Yankees logo across the back window.  You scoff at his skateboard brand bumper sticker and wish you could practice the pit maneuver on him.

Mrs. Mini Van from New York
1.She probably can’t even see out of her back window because it’s completely obstructed by her beloved stick figure family, pets included.  You keep your distance because you’re afraid one of the 242462 bikes tied to the trunk will be your new, unsolicited hood ornament. 

2. She’s a close relative to Mr. Impatient Pants, and is definitely a member of the Fickle Speed family.

Ms. This is My Exit.  LOL, J/K.
1. Ms. TIME is also Ms. WOO HOO I LOVE THE BRAKE PEDAL and Ms. Can’t Stand the Anticipation.  She knows her exit is coming up soon, she just can’t handle the waiting.

2. Ms. TIME puts her signal on 2 miles ahead of time.  She is exiting soon, she promises.  Ms. TIME wreaks havoc on the lives of Mr. Impatient Pants and Mrs. Mini Van alike.

3. Shortly after the signal goes on, Ms. TIME rediscovers her affinity for the brake pedal.  She’ll slow down and then speed up again just so she has one more chance to reduce her speed.  Oh, this is exit 174.  She needs exit 178.  SORRY Y’ALL! MY BAD! You hate her.  You get stuck behind her because all of a sudden the passing lane is hosting a parade that you weren’t invited to.
I googled  “annoying drivers” and this is what I got…
4. Ms. TIME finally exits and you are relieved until you find yourself introduced to a new and even more diabolical Mr. Impatient Pants…

And the journey continues! 
Tags: Travel

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Compulsive snacker. Bleeding heart. Unhealthy obsession with Tom Hanks and cats. Florida State and Syracuse University alum.
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  1. Reply

    Every word of this made me laugh so hard. I've either been on the highway with all these nuts…or been one of the nuts you wrote about. hahahahahthis was awesome Anna.Love Aunt Donna

    • Emmy
    • August 19, 2010

    This was hilarious!! So glad that I found your blog and am looking forward to similar posts =)

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