True Story. I refuse to drive after having more than three drinks. Friends call be a choirboy. I call myself a bad driver. Its been well documented. I, amazingly enough, one time was headed to the Best Buy on Pico and ended up near the Staples Center. It makes for adventurous times living in LA.
Every morning I take the local route to work. Sure Wilshire is a bit heavy on the traffic but it helps the waking up process. I can check my precious blackberry and I don't need to be super alert as I'm never going over 40. The only thing I really have to worry about is the occasional homeless person scurrying from his home in the jack n the box parking lot over to the carl's jr parking lot. Otherwise its smooth sailing. There's something very relaxing about gassing and breaking for five and 1/2 miles. Sure I could take the 10 to the 405 (6.3 miles of speed!) but then I'd have to pay attention to stuff. If you've ever been in a car ride with me you'll know one thing. Paying attention to "stuff", not my strong suit.
Today, as I'm motoring through the Wilshire gridlock I hit my favorite spot of the drive, that i like to call "the rage maker" and its pretty jammed up. The 405 merges into Wilshire and all the Freeway people decide that they need to get over to the middle and left lanes as quick as possible. Well, Wilsh and I have been together for the long haul and I won't have any part of it.
Fuck those freeway fuckers and their fucking sense of entitlement.
Needing to get over to the right I, without hesitation, throw up the bro hand and cut off a big black Escalade merging from the 405. The Escalade switches lanes and pulls along side me. I turn to see the driver mouthing at me and then pull past me. I start to laugh as i clearly cut him off and I'm sure I deserved whatever disparaging remarks he was making about my driving. I've heard em all so i never get pissed...but its early and I'm in good spirits. My plan, if traffic will allow, is to pull along side him at the next light and to Street Grey PouPon his ass (see this doesn't really translate well, but what that means is..fuck it I'll just explain outside of the parentheses in two seconds). We hit a light..and i inch up to the Escalade...come on, one more foot is all i need. Got it.
While "mean mugging" I motion to him with the international sign for "Roll your window down"(the "pardon me do you have any grey poupon" face and hand combo) and say in my best tough guy voice "YO, what were you saying back there!? My window was up. Why don't you say it now!".
He chuckled and said "Ha, i said "you're driving like its Manhattan!".
I laughed and said "alright man, have a good day".
Street cred for the NY plates. Little does he know NY cabbies would kick my ass. Hard.
Public service announcment from your local Deltron 3030: Kids don't drink and drive.
2 comments:
you forgot to note that your awesome roommate who chooses the 10/405 route arrived at work 15 minutes before you (and left the apt 15 minutes later). keep enjoyin wilshire buddy.
i bet if you got a handicapped license plate for your car alot of those honks and hand gestures would turn to gentle smiles and waving to let you merge. and it would be completely believable since you are the worst driver ever...the WORST.
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