Hey, guys. It's me. Yeah, that guy that hardly leaves his apartment. Anyway, I know that I've only been here about a year and I fully expected living in town to be a lot different from living on Boondock Mountain, Population: my extended family. What I didn't realize is that they gave Driver's Licenses to 3 year-olds throwing temper tantrums. It just seems like a bad idea to me. As a result of my recent frustration at the lack of driving skill and common courtesy of the motorists in this area, I have assembled the following lists of complaints.
1. Basic Traffic Laws are NOT That Complicated
If you are operating a motor vehicle, I am under the assumption that you at one point knew and understood the rules associated with it, at least well enough to pass the written part of your driving test on only the 28th try. But in case you have forgotten, there are a multitude of brightly colored visual reminders that line the roads that are called, in street terms, "signs". These "signs" will tell you all sorts of information - when to stop, how fast you should go ( I say 'should' because most of you seem hellbent on proving just how fast your '89 Honda CAN go), what the road looks like ahead, and even if the road ahead is closed. And no, most of these aren't just helpful suggestions that you may or may not choose to follow, most of them are laws put in place for your safety. And, more importantly, the safety of others, because at this point Darwinism sounds pretty damn good to me.
If, for some reason such as a surprise lobotomy or a crazy, amnesia-inducing coconut accident voids your memory of the meanings of said signs, then maybe you should try that test for the 29th time instead of assuming that "YIELD" means "gun it to get ahead of the jerks that are already on the main road".
And while we're on the topic of merging...
2. Turn Signals are NOT a Myth.
It's true - there exists a device that may be activated if you find yourself needing to merge into another lane or to turn onto a different road or into a parking lot. This is the turn signal, usually located on the left side of your steering wheel. If you're not sure which direction that is, hold up your hands in front of you, put only your thumbs and forefingers up, and then gouge yourself in the eyes so you have a legitimate excuse for not knowing how to drive.
Now, don't take it too far the other way. Turning on your turn signal does not mean that you can just weave around all willy-nilly and expect everyone to make way for you because, hey, you're following the rules, right?
3. I Hate Rednecks
Or, more precisely, I hate driving on roads clogged up by 4x4, rebel-flag and camo painted, mud-on-the-tires mountains of gas-guzzling yahoo trucks. The minute you decide that 6 mpg and $1000 dollar tires are worth the effort to distract everyone from (yet somehow bring attention to) the size of your penis, you forfeit all rights to complain about the "cost of living". How about you get a house with how much cash you sink into that Monster Truck you drive around. Maybe you could afford to eat something other than grits if you didn't burn through a third-world nation worth of oil every time you did 90 on the freeway.
And to those people who buy huge-ass, diesel-fueled farm trucks and never let them get a speck of dust on them - FUCK YOU. I'm going to buy 50 pigeons and train them every day for however long it takes to ONLY shit on trucks like yours.
In conclusion, I find the drivers in this humble and otherwise mostly friendly town to be, in colloquial terms, total douchebags. I realize that the majority of those addressed in this letter lack the cognitive function required to read, much less take anyone's advice that was not about how to date your cousin, but for those of you who understand my frustration/homicidal rage, do your part; together, we will make a pigeon army like no other.
With All Due Respect (Which amounts to, oh, about NONE),
Von Droomer
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