For years I have tried to blame my anger on the road on my years as a pizza delivery driver. Trust me when I say that when your job consists 90% of being on the road- you run into (not literally) a LOT of assholes. People flat out suck at driving. Some people make me wonder if they bribed someone, or if the machine they took their written driving exam was broken, and their on the road instructor was hung the fuck over and just wanted to get out of the car because all the swerving made them want to hurl.
There’s offensive driving, defensive driving, and then there’s just plain suck. Most people fall into that SUCK category. Some I dare say are even in the SUPER-SUCK category, which is a horrible terrible mix of offensive and defensive at all the wrong times that makes you want to pull over because you fear for your life. Of course, these are never the types of people that get pulled over for disobeying the law (and common sense)- it’s always the random person who just happened to be going 7 miles faster than the posted speed, while the shitbrick who was tail-gating the hell out of them goes speeding on by.
A year of that was enough to make me hate driving altogether. Something I once found to be relaxing is now stressful and panicky. A year of that and I was well on my way to be the foaming at the mouth freak I am now that kids have been tossed into the mix.
People! I’m carrying PRECIOUS CARGO. Can’t you see my “BABY ON BOARD” sign? WATCH THE FUCK OUT!
Hey, YOU, use a blinker you incompetent twat-burglar!
Did you even SEE that stop sign? Stop doesn’t mean ROLL and then cut me off- i’m pretty sure that’s a law or something. Maybe you should go get your eyes checked, ass-hat.
Those lines on the road there? Those are to tell you which lane is yours to STOP DRIFTING INTO MINE. It is a SPEED LIMIT, not a “don’t even get CLOSE to this speed or your vehicle will self destruct” warning!
Now, take a look in your rear view mirror, because i’m pretty sure those lovely forehead veins are now bulging and threatening to burst.
When you take the pizza delivery shit-ass driver anger, combine it with the panicky and clenched-cheeks “my babies are in the car” paranoia, and toss in bratty ass kids who are slap fighting, growling, arguing, screaming and generally acting like feral beasts in the back of the car- all the while you are hitting EVERY SINGLE RED LIGHT and swear they are sprouting out of the ground just to make you wait even longer; there’s an accident and someone being pulled over with no shoulder so you have to merge and NO ONE WILL LET YOU IN, and you swear to the sweet home-birthed baby Jesus if you don’t get home soon your head is going to EXPLODE?
Well, there is not much on this earth that reaches the level of obnoxious of being trapped in a car with kids that are acting like shitheads, and you are hitting every possible road block along the way. Nothing. Sorry Jim Carrey and Freddy Kreuger. You lose.
And then it happens.
You hear Adele come on the radio for the eleventy-billionth fucking time moaning about how she’s going to go super-stalker on her ex by showing up to his house with a damn knife or something, under the guise of “well, I just couldn’t stay away”– and you snap.
SHUT THE FUCK UP ADELE! CAN’T I MAKE ONE DRIVE WITHOUT YOU BEGGING FOR A RESTRAINING ORDER???
It’s no wonder I never leave the house. DO YOU SEE WHAT I GO THROUGH?
The fact that the wine section of Wal-Mart is directly next to the baby section cannot be an accident.
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