Roadarrhagia

I have this condition that is actually not very abnormal if you add up all of the instances you have encountered with the majority of the driving hoi polloi.

Medically, I believe the term is called Roadarrhagia. If you look up the suffix rrhagia, it means an abnormal or excessive flow or discharge. And while I am generally a very shy and soft spoken person (sober) in public, Roadarrhagia is what happens with my mouth once I get behind the wheel of a car and am forced to endure more than five minutes of completely and utterly imbecilic drivers.

I think riding with me operating a vehicle can go either way. It may be one of the most amusing or one of the most stressful experiences for a passenger. Because once something happens that triggers the Roadarrhagia,there is not much that can stop the flow of expletives and hand gestures coming from me, the volcano has erupted and what's been done cannot be undone.

It's like the Exorcist, sans all the vomiting and green skin. Sometimes I just cease to make sense, which can make this humorous; other times I start baiting other drivers, falling into the whole trap of being almost as equally senseless due to my Hulkmones taking over.

When I say Utah drivers are the worst, some people think I may be exaggerating. Granted, I haven't driven everywhere in the Universe, but I have been in traffic jams in Los Angeles that flow more smoothly than a freeway ride on a semi-desolate Utah freeway. People know that they have to work with each other in order to keep the traffic moving in L.A. Here, everyone looks at you as though you are the enemy and if you put your blinker on to get over, that means they need to get in your blind spot and sit there until you miss your exit.

One of my hugest pet peeves is a person who cannot for the life of me stay off my ass ie the tailgater. They just love to hump my car no matter how fast I may be going, or if GOD FORBID, I am going the speed limit. I do not know how anyone can comfortably drive behind someone that way without fear that they will start braking every minute. Or their mind may break.

Which, if they don't get off my ass I do. And then I go under the speed limit. Which then results in them trying to pass me, so I speed up with my middle finger out as they look at me. All the while I am yelling "How is my ass? Does my ass look good today is that why you are riding it??? Oh going to keep doing it huh? What happens if I brake? That's right I'm braking asshole, oh wait you want to pass me now? NOT GOING TO HAPPEN because whoops my foot just found the gas again!"

Sanity has no place in my driver's seat apparently. I have once even spouted the words, "You know, this is why I don't own a gun. Because I get why people jump out of their cars and shoot people on the road." It's pretty awful that I have once empathized with the above uttered sentiment.

I have cogitated over what pisses me off so much that I want to get out of my car at the red light me and the guy behind me honking at me and tailing me for the past five miles and throw my hot overpriced Latte in his face, trust me I hate wasting good coffee, and the conclusion was actually quite simple:

There are two things that really effect me in this world, and they are two of the least regulated things that I can think of.

It goes like this; someone can tell me where I can and cannot smoke cigarettes, how old I have to be when I start drinking, and I am forced to pay taxes every year and get raped by insurance companies (auto and health alike) yet when it comes to the matters where the most obtuse and reckless people manage to excel at, it is virtually not really regulated tightly.

That would be breeding and driving. Yeah if you get caught without your license, or you can get a ticket, or you get in an accident without insurance, or child services blah blah blah, but that never stops these people from doing things.

With transportation,suddenly my life, which I surprisingly enjoy having at this point in time, is in the hands of that fucktard on his cellphone, that texting child, that 956 year old whose grandkids aren't kind enough to take him to his doctor's appointment, and that Bro whose truck is waaaaay bigger than what he is trying to compensate for. And if one of those bozos, leading their life of bozoey existence, not a care in the world for anyone else's welfare ends up mowing me down on the way to get tampons, and I die in a fiery inferno getting tampons, probably listening to crunk, I am going to be fucking pissed.

I can picture my car upside down on the freeway with women's personal care health products scattered all around me lighting themselves off of the blaze like sparklers on the Fourth of July one by one while something like a J-Lo/Pitbull collaboration blasts out of the only working part left in my car, the speakers. I probably wouldn't be wearing cute underwear that day either. Of course not, I was on my way to get tampons, so that faded pair of Hello Kittys that I got 6 years ago would be stretching out of my skinny jeans as I lay splayed across the pavement.

And I am going to haunt the living hell out of whoever did that to me.

Of course we have the dude that can't use his blinker. That's my standard: "Only in America are people's fingers too fat and lazy to turn on a blinker!"

The dude who cuts me off. The start seeing motorcycles guy in flip flops, shorts, no helmet and a tank top who just can't seem to stop cutting through lanes, the Escalade driving soccer mom who has to do her makeup while driving so the coach thinks she is hot when she gets to the game, and the texting carful of teenagers listening to.....probably what I'm listening to.

The other day I yelled, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING DICK & BALLS???" To someone who would not get out of my way. After screaming that, I said, "That's right, dick and balls you're the whole package buddy!"

The term "suck my egg sac" was invented when I realized how ludicrous I sounded yelling suck my dick since I don't have one.

Sometimes it is just a string of incoherent swear words mixed in with some made up new vocabulary. A sailor would be embarrassed to ride with me.

Not too long ago, I literally almost got into a fight coming home from the mall with another driver. Not one of my proudest moments, I will admit. But she really just managed to push all of the wrong buttons that day.

I was starving and completely hot and dehydrated when I was taking a route home from the mall. I looked in my rearview and some crazy bitch had pulled up behind me severely tailing me. She was so close I could see her screaming and shaking her fist while honking her horn.

She whipped into the hospital adjacent to me, and that is when I let go of my anger for a second. I assumed maybe it was an emergency.

Well it must have been an emergency all right. Someone must have informed her that all the McDonalds were closing down in ten minutes, because she was in a hurry to get somewhere. She had pulled into the hospital in order to cut me off.

I did not do this on purpose, but I happened to pass by right when she was trying to pull out which infuriated this woman beast even further and she started driving more erratically, and I started getting even more irritated by the moment.

We were in residential neighborhood land, and she attempted to pass me. That is when I put my middle finger up behind me, and proceeded to speed up, denying her efforts. I just held my finger there, and slowed down to a nice safe speed of 15 miles an hour.

I didn't make a new friend doing this. I went to turn right, and turns out she needed to as well, I sat there a good while, not turning even though there were plenty of gaps, and I turned around, looked her in the eyes and mouthed the word "Cunt." Then turned right.

Okay at this point I had made a murderer. She pulled up so close behind me, got up next to me honking and screaming and then cut me off, literally coming within an inch of hitting my car.

At got into the next lane, and what do you know? All that hurrying had put us at the same red light together. I supposed I should have just let it go at this point. I was so mad though. And shaking from hunger probably crazy from dehydration. So I unrolled my window, pointed and laughed and said, "Oh look who's at the same red light with me now????"

She drove off and pulled into a parking lot, and for a brief flash of insanity, I almost considered pulling in as well and confronting her. Somehow my need for food and beverage trumped my need to get into my first ever fight with someone who apparently had no regard whether or not she or I died that day, and I took off.

Probably lesson learned, but I doubt it.

Today driving, my iPod was kind enough to know what I wanted to hear while it shuffled, and while I had it blasting on the freeway singing out of the top of my lungs to the following:

The Beatles
Roxy Music
The Jam
The Kinks
Pete Townsend
The Pixies
Bust out your white sports jackets STEELY DAN!!!!

I actually had to stop and laugh at myself because I was singing, "Lovely Rita, meter maid, may I inquire discreetly, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET OFF MY ASS YOU FUCKING FUCKWAD GOD I HATE YOU GET THE FUCKING FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!!!!"

and then segue happily back into, "Rita! do do do do do do." This happened throughout all of these songs.

Sometimes I thank God for music in the car, as it is the only saving grace I have. Except for that once hiccup, albeit and enjoyable one, I know had that semi crashed into me today, it would have been during a SuperMash Brothers song.