Rule 1: Don't cut me off and then slam on your brakes, because I will hit you. I will. Not necessarily because I want to (which I do) – but because there is far too much going on in my vehicle – cigarette smoking, texting, radio fiddling, mascara application, McChicken-ing, etc. - for me to be paying attention to what YOU are doing too. Trust me, these dents don't come from missing things.
Rule 2: If I should hypothetically slam into the back of your Yaris when waiting to exit the Eastern Bank parking lot onto Route 1 and then continue to apply gas because I think the reason I'm not moving is that I'm just stuck on the curb, could you please have a little understanding that it was a simple mistake? It's called an "accident" not an "on purpose". I'd appreciate it if you did not stare at me like I just murdered and ate a fetus in your presence and then flossed my teeth with its umbilical cord, and tell me that your daddy is going to be "like, wicked mad at me". Because I don't care. I clearly have things to do and places to go. Let's get a move on.
Rule 3: If you are sitting on phone books, have a bingo "strategy", or have blue hair with the consistency of unrefined cotton... I'm ordering you to stay 100 feet away from me and my vehicle at all times. There's nothing I hate more than driving behind a pair of knuckles doing 25 m.p.h. in the fast lane.
Rule 4: If I'm doing 90 mph three inches from your bumper, it's because I want you to move out of my way. Do not slam on your brakes to "intimidate me" because I have cat-like reflexes and you just started a war you won't win. Trust me, grandpa.
*Exception to Rule 4: If I have decided to abandon my days agenda to instead follow you mercilessly because you slammed on your brakes when I was 3 inches from your bumper doing 90mph, do not pull over next to the cop parked on the cloverleaf to 93 South, roll down your window and start pointing at my car screaming "CITIZEN'S ARREST!!" at the top of your lungs. Because that really scares me.
Rule 5: To the city of Lowell: If I'm parked in a "tow zone" it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I couldn't find another spot. Come on… just leave me alone. Enough with the friggen towing bullshit. All the homocides in this city and you have to busy yourself with towing my car everyday.
Rule 6: To the ungrateful passengers in my car: Please don't stomp your foot on the floor looking for your "brake" when I do something that scares you. This isn't the driving school vehicle… there's only one brake and IT'S ALL MINE and I will use it AT MY DISCRETION. There are "oh shit" handles and seatbelts installed for a reason. Use them.
Rule 7: If I should happen to cut my left turn too tight and therefore end up driving on the wrong side of the road coming head on at you, please be paying attention so that we can avoid disaster. I'd hate to have that whole "jaws-of-life-street-shut-down-with-six-fire-engines-help-I-can't-feel-my-legs" type situation occur again. Trust me, twice is enough. Should above situation occur, please take my advice which comes from experience: Screaming at the top of your lungs means that I can't hear the 911 dispatcher. Have a little consideration please. I'm aware that you are pinned inside your car because my car is parked on top of yours. Remember, I started this impromptu Monster Truck Rally on Essex Street in Saugus. I have feelings too, you know.
Rule 8: To the gas station attendant on the corner of Main and Charles – If you're not done pumping my gas, don't tap my hood three times because I think this means that I'm all set to go. If you should do this, I believe you forfeit all right to be upset when I drive away and go half a block with the hose still attached to my gas tank.
(written December 2008)
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