Yellow line fever

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This weekend my wife and I drove out into the country with our aunt and her friend for lunch. For some strange reason we ended up taking two cars. I think the reason for that was a plan to go separate ways at some point, but they stayed glued to us and that never happened. I’m actually thankful for that since my aunt’s driving scares the bejeezus out of me.

It was a nice day. I took some photographs, we went to a bakery that was rustic and smelled great, even if the actual product didn’t live up to what my nose was telling my brain. We pulled over a got some fresh produce from a self-serve roadside stand. And we had a nice lunch at a grill out in the country.

The roads to get there were rural and in some parts were pretty curvy.

So there we were in our little two-car caravan. My wife was driving so I was relaxing and enjoying the scenery. Out of the blue I heard my wife swear under her breath which immediately got my attention.

We were on a curve with a double-yellow line. That means “no passing.” Not because it’s illegal. It means no passing because attempting to do so on a blind curve will get yourself and probably others killed.

That didn’t stop this guy, though. He was driving like a maniac. I looked just in time to see him fly by on the double-yellow line. “What an asshole,” I said. My wife informed me he had just done the same to our aunt’s car that was directly behind us.

As often happens in cases like these, a little bit of mini-karma was dispensed. In other words the asshole car was now behind the truck that we were previously following. The roads were still curvy and Mr. Asshole was tailgating that truck like no tomorrow. Suddenly he saw a little opening, still on the double-yellow, and made his move. Yikes, a car was coming right at him! He managed to get out of the way and back behind the truck just in time.

That seemed to mellow him out some. He remained behind that truck all the way to his destination, which turned out to be the same parking lot as our restaurant. The asshole’s crazy move had saved him a grand total of fifteen seconds.

My wife, who is a skosh more assertive than me, wanted to go confront the guy. I settled for standing there and glaring at him. He backed into a parking spot in front of the country store and got out of his car. He looked pretty much like you’d expect – a total scuzball.

“What was so friggin’ important?” my wife and I both wondered.

We watched the dude pop his trunk and proceed to unload lots of bags full of cans and bottles. The big hurry was that the dude was about to get his $2.00 in friggin’ bottle money!

Now that I think about it there just might be a chapter about driving in the book I’m writing entitled Society of Assholes. (Deliberate understatement alert.) If I knew the dude’s name I’d dedicate the chapter to him.

What an asshole!

Please enjoy the musical pairing that has been selected by our chef for this post:

5 responses

  1. They say we should “drive defensively.” How do you defend yourself from assholes like that? Great song!


  2. And those are the people that never get pulled over, I swear. It’s annoying.


  3. I was a victim of yellow line fever last month when some idiot dropped his cigarette, bent down to pick it up and crossed the double yellow right into my lane and totalled my car.

    Glad everyone made it to the destination without crashing.


  4. His name is Jack Smith, son of the late Sam Smith who perished several years ago in a head-on collision with a cheese truck. Jack is a known asshole, with repeat offender status in seven states. In addition to driving like a tool he enjoys “runtry” a type of rap-country music hybrid originally developed by the tourettes therapy group in the Palooshka Sanitarium. Jack’s favorite song is “Run that bitch down” followed up by his second favorite “Cornhole Mother.” Jack’s primary occupation is recycling cans and bottles, but he is also known to sell crank on the side. Jack’s hobbies include flipping people off, stealing cans out of his neighbor’s garbage, flicking boogers at the television, farting obnoxiously in public, and pleasuring himself. If you have the money, and you can find him, maybe you can hire this A-hole to piss off your neighbors.


  5. Yeah the losers in a constant hurry are in no shortage around here either. Conveniently I tend to run into the same general group of vehicles everyday during my commute. Within this group are two gentlemen I recently met who have very large ranch trucks decked out to haul in all weather.

    To my rapt amusement, they engage in a game of “mess with the maniac” and work together to block attempts by the jerks in small fast cars from passing. This includes things like forcing them to slow down and enter a turn lane behind them, or just completely blocking them all together if they’re being super asinine about their driving.

    It never fails to cheer me after a long and typically annoying day at work.


Bringeth forth thy pith and vinegar

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