Driving

I love to drive. I always have. I especially love it when I'm by myself and I can choose whatever I want to listen to, I can play whatever that is as amped up as I want and I can sing as loudly as I choose (well, except when I'm at a red light or something and people can see me morphing into Axel Rose because that'd just be weird).

But since that never, ever happens (hello, I drive a minivan; there are always passengers!) it's easier for me to remember what I hate about driving. Or, more specifically, what I hate about other peoples' driving, because, well, I'm not going to critique my driving (and I'm sure no one will dare remind me of my most recent stupid run-in, right?).

So, here it is, my list of driving pet peeves. Fun, huh?

1) Turn only lanes. If they're there, shouldn't you use them? Why do people straddle the line between the turn lane and the driving lane thus negating the purpose of having a turn only lane? Thanks, middle aged, Buick driving lady, I wasn't making a left turn but now, thanks to you, I waited along with you for all the oncoming traffic to pass and could've made the turn also!

2) Parking lots. Do you realize that people actually walk through parking lots, not limited to, but including small children, senior citizens and people with disabilities? And furthermore that there are cars that can, and do, pull out at various times and that maybe, just maybe, driving through the parking lot at eighty-five miles an hour to snag one of the last thirty available spots isn't the best idea? Thank you, college-age, Honda Civic driving, Paris Hilton wannabe, I sooo appreciated having to lunge for my four-year-old son while exiting Walgreens as you whizzed by looking for the very best spot in the half empty lot.

3) The highway. OK, quick quiz: if your cruise control is set and you're merrily poking along at a set speed, in which lane do you belong? The left? The center? AAAANNNNNNNNN!!! I'm sorry, wrong answer. No, the correct thoroughfare for someone who is not currently passing another vehicle is the right lane. There are no exceptions to this rule. None. I am so appreciative of the Ford Contour driver that obliviously drove the exact same speed as her neighbor in the right lane for five straight miles while I repeatedly banged my head against the steering wheel begging-- no pleading-- with her in my head to just move over. Just a teeny, tiny bit. Please, please, please. I feel fairly confident in saying that the ten or so cars lined up behind me frantically gesturing and furiously miming were ever so grateful as well.

4) Tailgating. I'm not talking about brats and beer at Miller Park here folks, no, I'm talking about people wanting to ride in the trunk of my car. Can't you see that it's full enough? I assure you, were you to actually gain access to the interior my children peppering you with question after question after question after question after question after question would soon have you begging to get out. And if they didn't, I would because, well, I don't know you and I don't want you in my car, so please, give me a couple car lengths of space, people! Props to you, Chevy Blazer guy, because of you my children now know and love the word "idiot." Isn't that wonderful?

Any I missed? C'mon, I know you've all got some doozys you'd like to share.