Tailgaters and Boomboxers

People who insist on driving in the left lane drive me to distraction. (I mean, this isn't England). But there are two on-road behaviors which distract me even more.

Tailgaters and Boomboxers.

I was driving down a street in a nearby city once when some character crept a little too close to my bumper, and as I ran down the road at 40 mph, he never gave an inch, (but actually crept a few inches closer).

As a rule when someone practices this dangerous and deplorable behavior I tend to lift one arm, and give that someone a backwards wave, as in, “Get off my bumper you fool.” (I know. Some people are prone to give such people the “one fingered salute, but that’s not my style).

At any rate, this time I practiced a different defensive move. I tapped my brake. And then,

… he lost control of his vehicle.

And as I followed his (lack of) progress in my rearview mirror, “Bob,” (as in “What About Bob”) swerved off the road and into a nearby parking lot. (lmbo)

And while I’m (very) glad he didn’t plow into the side of a gas station or restaurant,

… Revenge is so sweet! (I think I cured him of that tailgating habit)!

As I implied earlier, the second of my vehicular pet peeves are the Boomboxers among us.

A few months ago, as I peddled my nightly 10 on my slow, but trusty bike, some guy pulled up to a red light, and his radio was cranked up to the level of an F-15 at full throttle. As a result, I shouted,

“Turn the darn thing down, you doo doo bird!!!”

(I don’t recall that my admonition had much effect. Perhaps he couldn’t hear me)!

Tailgaters and Boomboxers.

I hate ‘em (or I should say I hate their behavior).

By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from "(Mc)Donald's Daily Diary" Vol. 6